A More Perfect Union
by Charles Densem
Summary: War never changes. But people do, through the roads they walk. And the right person on the right road at the right time may well manage to save the human race. Fallout 3/NV rationalish fic.
1. Vault Tech

_"Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are."_

* * *

She had always been such a _quiet_ girl.

Nobody was really surprised that the daughter of Vault 101's soft-spoken physician had taken to solitary, intellectual pursuits. Even at age eight, she wasn't walking the path of the bookworm so much as trying to dive into it like some kind of swimming pool. She spent her days either sequestered in the library, pestering her teacher for ever more challenging texts, or simply picking a spot and thinking in it. To the average outside observer, little Julia simply wasn't interested in talking to people. It's likely if left alone, she would have continued on the path of quiet scholarship, maybe eventually becoming the schoolteacher herself. If she'd been born in a world where the Great War hadn't scorched the Earth with atomic fire, she could have become an astronaut, or more likely, a physicist. But these possible worlds were not to be, for on one fateful day in the library, someone did something nobody has really properly done before.

Somebody asked her a question.

**Friday, March 8, 2267**

"What does "despot" mean?"

Julia's eyes rose up from the microfilm reader and blinked a few times. Being snapped out of a reading trance was disorienting enough, without it being a treatise on basic particle physics. Not noticing the mildly stunned look on her would-be teacher's face, the girl pressed on.

"I'd ask Mr. Brotch, but he got mad last time I asked him about something Wally's dad said, and he said that "young girls shouldn't use such words" and he kept asking where I heard it and-"

"Stop." Julia held up a hand, managing briefly to halt the barrage of words being spewed at her. "...you're the Overseer's daughter, right?"

"Yep, I'm Amata!" she said cheerfully. "Anyway I figured since you're always reading, you might know what it meant."

"A despot is a ruler who holds absolute power, usually one who abuses it." Julia recited from memory. "I'm kind of surprised Mr. Mack even knew that word. He's kind of a dummy."

Amata giggled. "I think he's been reading Pre-War spy novels. What does "absolute power" mean though?"

"I don't know." the young scholar answered. "I read it in a book once."

Amata scrunched up her face in thought. "But.. if you don't know, do you really know what the word means?"

This hadn't actually occurred to our young protagonist before, having been accustomed to simply memorizing facts to spew out on cue. You take the tests, put in the right words, and smartness comes out, like remembering a password for a computer. Normally, she would just speak sharply at whoever questioned her intelligence, tell them to go away, and smother herself in memories of all her perfect test scores. But whether Amata's curiosity was infectious that day, or she was more disoriented from being interrupted than she thought, or she was simply more mature than before, this insight permeated into her brain, which quickly processed it and incorporated it into its processes.

"I guess not." she said after a lengthy pause. "...wanna help me find out?"

"Sure!"

**Monday, July 13, 2268**

Julia waited in a bare maintenance room with barely contained anticipation. Amata and her father had thrown her a surprise party for her tenth birthday! Even though there hadn't been any cake, Old Lady Palmer had given her a sweetroll, and she'd gotten to punch that jerk Butch DeLoria in the face. On top of that, she had her very own Pip-Boy! Technically those wrist-mounted computerized sensors were for work, but they could also store and display_ books_. So far, this was the best day ever as far as she was concerned. And to top it all off, her father had told her to come down to the reactor level for a _surprise._ Bookworm or no, every child knows that birthday surprises are the best kind of surprises. Jonas Palmer, her father's assistant, had been there to greet her, but he refused to give up any hints about what was up. Fortunately, he arrived at the door before she started to consider bribery or violence in any meaningful capacity. He was holding a long, brown-wrapped package behind his back, though he pretended not to be as he walked over and smiled.

"Are you ready for your surprise?" he asked, eyes twinkling with mischievous amusement.

"What kind of surprise?" Julia asked eagerly.

"The Overseer gave you your Pip-Boy, and you're old enough to do some work. So I figure you're old enough for this. Your own BB gun! It's a little old, but it should work perfectly."

He handed it over, and the wrapping was off very quickly. Julia tested its weight, being careful to point it away from Jonas and her father (basic gun safety was covered in the security officer's manual, which was kept in the library, therefore she had read it at least twice).

"Jonas found it down here." her father explained. "It was in pretty rough shape - took us a good three months to find the parts to get it working again. You know how tough it is to find a spring that small? Good thing Butch "misplaced" that switchblade of his. Ha ha ha!"

Julia frowned, not sure what Butch's switchblade had to do with anything. Most of what she knew about that was that he was in a sour mood for a whole month over not having it anymore. Looking up from the toy rifle, she asked what seemed like the most pertinent question in what seemed like the most polite way.

"Why give me a BB gun?"

Ten year olds aren't really known for their tact. Fortunately, he'd anticipated that question, and was well-used to his daughter's mannerisms.

"I know how much time you spend alone reading, even if you have made a friend. Although reading is a fine activity, a young person such as yourself should have other hobbies. I know you've been enjoying those Doyle novels-"

Julia hid a quick blush. She really wasn't supposed to be reading about Professor Challenger at her age. Her father dispelled her doubts with a quick wink, and continued.

"-so I thought maybe you would enjoy learning to shoot. So, what do you think? Want to give it a try?"

Filled with enthusiasm both at being caught up in the moment and her father's unexpected complicity in her rule-breaking, she eagerly nodded. Then, she remembered the "reactor" part of "reactor level".

"Wait, here? We can't shoot a gun here!" she exclaimed frantically.

"We sure can't, unless we want the Overseer beating down our door. Jonas and I have found a place, though. C'mon!"

He led the trio through a corridor to a small area sectioned off with debris. There stood some old bullseyes mounted on poles, the type that would spin when shot. With a nod of encouragement from Dad, she knelt down, took careful aim.. and missed by a mile. She'd done everything the manual had said, why didn't it work? She looked up at her father imploringly, and he knelt down and offered some advice.

"Take your time, honey. Breathe slowly, sight down the barrel, and squeeze the trigger. Like so.."

He took hold of the barrel and lined it up with her eye, showing her how to use the sights. The next shot managed to graze the target, and the third was a proper bullseye. Soon, the other two targets were spinning as well. Then, a giant bug crawled into the target zone. Her father stiffened slightly, but noted that it wouldn't be able to escape the enclosed space.

"Careful!" he said in a sharper tone. "It's a Radroach. Think you can take care of that with your BB gun? Just aim and shoot. You'll be fine. Just aim for the head - a good headshot will do a lot of damage to most anything."

Julia had heard of radroaches. Giant cockroaches that had lived in radiation for hundreds of years, they were a particularly nasty sort of pest found in the darker areas of the Vault. If you weren't careful, one could kill a man. Swallowing with nervousness and feeling a cold sweat drop slide down her back, Julia took careful aim at the unreasonably large bug. A quick "pop" and a "splat" and the bug was no more.

"Good work!" said her father, beaming with pride. "I doubt Professor Challenger could have done any better. Hey, Jonas, get a picture of me with the big game hunter!"

As she took up a place by her father's side, a wave of joy and pride washed over her. Maybe there really was more to life than books - maybe reading could help with actually doing things, too!

Jonas aimed the camera with a big grin.

"Smile!"

**Tuesday, October 7, 2272**

"I still think it would have been funnier if they'd understood it."

Amata kicked her Vault-issue boots off and flopped onto her bed, continuing.

"I mean, what's the point of rhyming weird insults if they're just going to make that "durr" face when you break out the grown-up words?"

Julia just grinned, unrepentant. "Oh come on, you know how those three are, they're inseparable! How often do we catch Butch and Wally without Paul? I had to take the chance while I had it."

"The chance to call them a "pair of pathetic peripatetics"?" Amata countered skeptically, crossing her arms. "That doesn't even make sense!"

"I had to pick something weird enough that they wouldn't have a ready retort." Julia said, gesturing with a hand for emphasis. "If I hear them say "well so's your face" one more time, they're each getting a kick in their "Tunnel Snakes"!"

Amata snorted at that mental image. "Still, you know my father would get on your case if you got in another fight. I don't know why he allows Butch and his wackos to keep pestering people."

"There's a lot the Overseer does that's just plain weird." Julia admitted. "Honestly, _I_ could run this place better than he does. Er, no offense, Amata."

"No, I think you're right." Amata said, sitting bolt upright. "I think you're righter than you usually are, even."

"What are you talking about?" Julia said, eyes narrowed. "Is this another one of your "plans"?"

"No!" Amata denied emphatically, before reconsidering. "Well, yes. But you're going to help! This won't be like the Incident in the Smoking Lounge, I promise!"

"I hope not, they still haven't managed to fix the place up, and Andy still gets that weird twitch in his waldoes whenever he goes near there." Julia said, shuddering.

"Never mind that!" Amata said, huffing. "What I'm thinking is, if we don't like how my father is running the Vault, we should take over!"

"...a conspiracy?" Julia asked with an eyebrow raised. "You think your father is just going to let us take over his office?"

"Well, we won't ask him!" Amata said, sliding even further into her enthusiasm for the plan. Julia slid her face into her palm as Amata kept talking. There wasn't going to be an easy way out of this one.

"We'll need a secret code, and a club charter, and a code name for the group - something way better than Butch's dumb gang. "Tunnel Snakes", bleck!"

"It should at least be something not connected to us personally, so we can at least pretend to have plausible deniability." Julia sighed, giving in to the madness for the time being. "What about naming it after someone obscure? Like a mathematician or something. Here, I'll pick a book at random.. How about "The Army of Thomas Bayes"?"

"Too wordy." Amata said, waving a hand dismissively. "But.. yes. We'll call it "the Bayesian Conspiracy"!"

"We're so going to get grounded."

**Monday, August 3, 2274**

"As far as I can tell, you're a perfectly healthy 16-year-old girl. So yes, you have to go to class to take your G.O.A.T. exam!"

Julia Mateus sat facing her father, squinting at the light from his opthalmoscope. She wasn't looking forward to this day. Tests, she liked. Standardized, impenetrable tests, less so.

"But Dad, I'm sick! Really!" she tried to plead. Even to her ears, it came out more as a whine.

"No, you're not." he said, bemused. "Really." He got up and started to pace around the room a bit, as was his custom when making his little speeches. "When I started studying medicine, one of the first things I learned was how to spot a kid playing sick to get out of taking a test! You'll do fine. It's not so bad. Everyone has to take it when they're sixteen. I had to, you have to, and so does everyone else."

He turned to look Julia in the eye, as if to emphasize his next point.

"And most everyone makes it through without a scratch."

Sensing defeat, she took one last chance to try and gather info before facing the Dire G.O.A.T.

"What do you know about the G.O.A.T.?" she asked just before he turned away. He sat back down and re-entered what Julia had come to think of as "lecture mode".

"The Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test. G.O.A.T.!" he said, wincing in sympathetic pain for acronyms everywhere. "Everyone here in the Vault takes it when they're sixteen. Helps to figure out what sort of job you'll have here in Vault 101 when you get a bit older. So, pay attention and try not to fall asleep."

"Yes, Dad." Julia said, hopping down and rolling her eyes.

"Please, honey, please take these achievement tests seriously. The last thing I need is you mother's ghost haunting me because her only child became a- a _garbage burner_." He spoke the last two words with the voice of someone saying "booger slug".

"I will, Dad." Julia said, meeting his gaze. "I'll make you both proud."

With one last hug, she headed off to the classroom and was soon under the appraising gaze of one Edwin Brotch, schoolmaster and champion snarker two years running.

"Well, you made it. All set for the G.O.A.T.? Trust me, it really isn't that bad. Just something everybody has to go through. Don't worry, you'll do fine. As soon as everyone's found a seat, we'll get started..."

**SIX HOURS LATER**

A cabal of around twelve cloaked figures sat in a darkened room in the lower levels of Vault 101. Each had arrived separately, having heard the secret sign encoded within the daily Vault public announcements. At the head of the room, two lone figures stepped into the light- a tall young woman of Indian complexion, and a pale one with dark hair and dark green eyes, also cowled.

"This meeting of the Bayesian Conspiracy is hereby called to order. So says I, Madam Bleuel." Julia said, banging a gavel on her handy podium. "Madam Greene, the report."

Amata, incognito, stepped in to take the podium ceded to her. "Our plans are progressing well. Thanks to Agent Candid's efforts, Madam Bleuel and I have managed to obtain very influential positions within the Vault hierarchy."

"The Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test can't be cheated like that." came a voice from the mass of cloaks. "You took the exam and were assigned jobs like everyone else."

"Honestly, Candid, do you expect us to believe that?" came the sardonic voice of Julia Mateus, master of the Conspiracy. "Nobody besides me has even heard of a "Vault Loyalty Inspector", and that's because I spent my childhood reading instead of making friends."

"I have to maintain some of my schoolmaster's mystique." he said, grinning. "How else am I supposed to enjoy my job?"

Julia made a gesture similar to a fencer's salute, and motioned for Amata to continue the briefing.

"With myself on the supervisory track, and Bleuel as an independent power sanctioned by the Vault Charter, we should be in position to completely oust the Overseer within four years. I'll be trained in the interim, and we'll have to graduate before any of this takes effect. You each have a task to complete to ensure the transition of power is as complete as it is bloodless. We'll use this time wisely, and in four years, we'll bring democracy to the Vault!"

**THREE YEARS LATER**

**Friday, August 17, 2277**

"Wake up! Come on, you've got to wake up!"

Julia's mind struggled to complete its POST as it was jolted into a very cold boot process.

"Gzlfrt. Whazzat? Leemee lone. 'm trying to sleep."

Amata took Julia's shoulders and shook them. "No! You've got to get up. Right now! Your dad is gone and my father's men are looking for you!"

Now _that_ got Julia's attention. Her brain initiated an emergency bootstrapping process into adrenaline mode, aided by noticing the Vault emergency klaxon sounding outside.

"Wait, what? Is this Case SCARLET?" she asked, referring to one of their pre-arranged scenarios regarding the unmasking of the Conspiracy.

"No! It's some unholy fusion of SCARLET, OCHRE and fucking herpes oh _GOD_-" Amata was clearly just hanging onto her wits.

"OCHRE and SCARLET?" Julia asked, walking Amata through the familiar steps of their plans to try and get her to focus. "So the Overseer knows about us, and there was an external factor in play. Guessing that's my dad?"

Her brain did a quick double take.

"Wait, _wha_t? What did you mean, he's gone?"

Amata sat down on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"He's left the Vault! I don't know how, but he's gone, and my father... he's kind of gone crazy. He's ranting about "treason to the Vault" this and "purges" that!"

Julia knee-crawled over and put a hand on Amata's shoulder. "I've never seen you so scared, Amata. What happened?"

The taller girl let out a sob and said, "My father's men think Jonas helped your dad escape. They caught him and brought him to my dad's office and they... oh my God..."

Julia was running on far too much adrenaline to process that emotionally, so she pushed it aside for more practical matters. She held Amata's hand for a bit while she composed herself, and attempted to think things through.

_Okay, I never saw this particular situation coming, but this falls within established parameters. Projected solutions for SCARLET were never all that positive, and OCHRE turning out well depended largely on the external factor being beneficial. Is this beneficial? I have no goddamned idea, we were never really able to plan for anything outside of the Vault. But... Dad. Why would he leave the vault? Possibilities: Was he suicidal? Unlikely, there's way easier ways to kill yourself. Was he just trying to escape the Overseer? Doubtful. As chief medic, he had the Overseer's allegiance, if not his loyalty. Then, what? Did he need something out there? How would he know about anything out there? That doesn't really make sense. None of this makes sense. Focus on the immediate. Case SCARLET means that I'll be actively hunted by security forces. None of our hideouts can be presumed safe in the event of active searches, we went by on need more information._

"Amata." Julia said her name to focus her attention. "Are you back?"

"Yeah." she said. "It's just been a hell of an evening so far."

"We'll need to work together if we want to survive this." Julia said, holding her gaze steady. "Now, I had my lights off because I was sleeping - but why are the rest of the lights off?"

"My father ordered the Vault into lockdown." Amata explained, finishing up her emotional control by slipping back into old patterns of back and forth plotting. "Emergency lighting only. The Radroaches have swarmed out in the darkness. I had a few close calls on my way to see you. It's lucky in a way - security's been distracted dealing with the Roaches, but that won't last forever. We've got to get moving."

Julia began gathering items from her quarters - medical supplies from the first aid kit, her old baseball bat, the BB gun. While she gathered, she continued thinking.

_If security is busy, I might actually be able to move around if I'm careful. Radroaches are at best a distraction, but I can use that. Trouble is, where do we go? Nowhere in the Vault can really stay safe. The Overseer can't really avoid making an example of a political rival in a situation like this. I'd rather not do a Butch Cassidy ending here, either. And that means..._

She stuffed the last of the stimpacks into a large knapsack made out of a bedsheet and the baseball bat, and turned to Amata.

"I need to escape the Vault." she said, simply.

"It won't be easy." she said, checking the corridor. "My father sealed the door to the exit to prevent anyone else from following your dad. But I overheard them talking - there's a secret tunnel that leads directly from my father's office to the exit. You'll have to hack the computer in his office to open it."

"I should be able to manage to 'hack' in." Julia said, rolling her eyes. "Is his master password still 'amata'?"

"I don't think he even knows how to change it." Amata admitted. "While you're there, if you have time, see if you can find any useful information. I don't know how useful his database would be in the outside world, but it's worth a look."

"Sounds like a plan, then. Let's go!" Julia said, getting ready to creep out the door.

"One more thing." Amata said, holding out a standard security-issue 9mm semiautomatic. "I stole my father's pistol. I hope you won't need it, but you'd better take it just in case."

"Thanks, Amata." Julia said, pocketing the weapon. "I'll only use it as a last resort, I promise."

"Okay. I'll try to meet you at the exit. Watch out for security. Good luck!"

And with that, she vanished into the darkened corridor.

_Guess that's it, then._ Julia thought to herself, casting one glance back at the only home she'd ever known. _Time to do or die... literally._

_**A/N:**_

_This is the first draft posted for people to see and comment on, so expect it to change a fair amount over time. That said, welcome!_

_I'm going to try and keep this reasonably close to canon - we'll hit most of the same points, at least. The way we get there and the reasons for going there will likely be different, though._

_There are a few primary points of departure:_

_First, the Wanderer is smart. The Courier was fairly clever, but the Wanderer always seemed incredibly reactionary to me. They were just begging for additional agency, and now they have it. Julia will plan, grow as a person, and things will start to change in response to that. At the very least, all her choices will make *sense*._

_Second, and I'm mentioning this now even though we won't get there for a while, my Wanderer and Courier are the same person. Accordingly, I'll have tweaked the timeline a bit. Nothing major, just shifting a few things around. Dates, places, items, that sort of thing._

_Third is perhaps the most significant and major one, [REDACTED] [REDACTED] will be found much earlier, [REDACTED]ing [REDACTED]. Not a joke, I'll unspoiler this when it comes time. Don't want to ruin the reveal._

_Oh, and yes, some of the dialogue here is the same as in the games. I'm going to try to minimize that going forward, but at least to start, I want Fallout people to be able to ground themselves in the plot. As for non-Fallout people, the exposition serves the same purpose as in the game._


	2. Escape!

_"It is much safer to be feared than loved." _

* * *

**Friday, August 17, 2277**

The most annoying part of the situation, Julia pondered as she crept along the darkened corridors, was how thoroughly it had come out of nowhere. She was reasonably certain her father hadn't known about the Conspiracy (they took precautions, of course). He probably would have been sympathetic, but he was always busy with his own work and experiments. He didn't really have time to contribute besides providing medical care, and he did that anyway. Ultimately, even though it was hard keeping secrets from him, Julia decided the risk wasn't worth the reward. Which was why it was so _galling_ that his sudden, unexplained departure had been the thing to torpedo the whole deal. She couldn't even blame the man. He, literally, couldn't have known. It wasn't the most rational of thoughts, but people like to have someone to blame, and Julia was far too self-honest to allow herself to do so. Such were her thoughts when she rounded a corner and came upon Officer Kendall being swarmed by radroaches.

She froze instantly. Kendall was putting up a good fight, but there were just too many roaches. Kendall was a good man, but he was also a good cop. If he managed to win, he'd have to come take her in. If he lost, she'd be dealing with the swarms. Tearing her gaze from the grim melee, she ducked quickly into a nearby bathroom.

_Sorry, Officer._ she thought in his direction, more a prayer than condolences. The other exit from the bathroom came out near the clinic, which she exited quickly.

"Whoa, hold on there, missy! I just want to talk to you for a minute!"

Julia rose from her semi-crouch and spun around to face the source of the voice - Officer Gomez. He had always been a kind man, and more than forgiving of minor transgressions. If she hadn't technically been a criminal, she might have considered him a friend. That of course didn't change the fact that he was an armed security officer who had her dead to rights. She met his gaze warily. Fortunately, he lowered his baton and sheathed it in its holster.

"You're lucky it was me who found you. The others won't be so forgiving." He crossed his arms, clearly somewhat conflicted. "Look, I don't know what you're up to and I don't want to know. Just clear out of here and I'll pretend I never saw you. "

He was.. letting her go? Even amidst the chaos of the evening, the simple charity of a good man brought a small smile to Julia's face.

"Thanks, Officer Gomez. I always liked you." she said, meeting his eyes.

"It's a real shame it's come to this. I can't believe what they did to Jonas... Officer Mack was just out of control... " He shook his head as if to dispel the dark memories, and turned to leave. "But you're a good kid. You didn't do anything to deserve this. Go find your dad, if you can."

Julia gave him a quick nod and vanished up the stairs. Ducking security was proving to be simpler than expected, the incident with Gomez notwithstanding. They were mostly focused on the bugs. Thus, before long, she found herself in the Administrative section - home to the Overseer's quarters, office, and security room. Julia had often noted how well-centralized power was in the Vault, both political and military. Today, at least, it would be helpful, since both locations should be empty. That is, until she heard shouting coming from the open door of the security office.

_Idiot!_ she thought at herself. _How often does the concept of "should" interact with your life?!_

Hurrying over to the window, what she saw made her blood boil. Amata was strapped to a chair, with the Overseer conducting negotiations, with Officer Mack, the Overseer's chief thug, wielding his baton like he meant to use it.

"Be reasonable, Amata." said the Overseer from the other side of the small window. "Officer Mack may enjoy this, but I don't. Just tell us where to find your friend, so we can talk to her."

"If you think I'll betray her, you don't know me very well." responded Amata coldly. "But that doesn't exactly come as a shock, does it?"

"I've always indulged you, Amata. And now you've taken advantage of my lenience." he gave a deep, world-weary sigh. "Go ahead, Officer."

Officer Mack raised his truncheon.. and then he fell over with a "thud". Julia lowered her bat and surveyed the situation.

"I don't envy you the headache you'll have waking up," she said mockingly at Mack as she undid Amata's bonds. "But as I can't have you following me, either.." Amata hurried out, and Julia rounded on the Overseer. The sarcasm in her tone could bite through steel. "You wanted to see me, Overseer? You might have just asked."

"The hero arrives in the nick of time." he sneered. "I don't suppose you're here to surrender, are you?"

Julia just snorted, searching Mack's insensate form and the room for anything useful, turning up some spare ammo, cash, that sort of thing. "But siccing your attack dog here on your own daughter? That's sick!"

"I place the good of the Vault above everything, even my own paternal feelings. Besides, do you really think I didn't know about the little coup you two planned? She's hardly an innocent in all this." he said. "If you really care about Amata, you will see how dangerous your actions were. I don't know if your father was involved in your plot, and it doesn't much matter. He's placed the entire Vault in jeopardy through his reckless actions!"

"My father has nothing to do with any of my long term plans, aside from probably standing at my wedding, if that ever happens." Julia said carefully. "All of.. this.. is as much a surprise to me as it is to you."

"I actually believe you in this case." the Overseer "You've quite clearly been taken as much off-guard as the rest of us here. But that's why it's all the more imperative that you hand over your weapons, and put an end to this dangerous situation. There's no need to join your father as a traitor to the Vault!" he said imploringly. He had never lacked for charisma, and it's not as if he didn't _almost_ have a point. Despite herself, Julia was tempted.

_Stay in the Vault, help beat back the Radroach infestation, become a hero, leverage that to retain the needed pull to remain a political entity? Even if the Overseer knows about the Conspiracy - and there's no reason to assume he knows _much_\- he wouldn't be able to move against me openly without an opening. But the man is a master of spin, and it would be very easy to paint this whole night as a Mateus family production, with me in the starring role. It would be a gamble. Besides... Dad. Would I be able to stay down here for even a month, let alone the entire rest of my life knowing there's another world out there? That the rest of the Earth might well be safe to explore? ...well, explorable, anyway. There's no guarantees on "safe". Most of the temptation of staying is me trying to flinch away from the grand Unknown anyway.. so._

"I won't say I'm not tempted, because I am." she drew herself up to her full height, and faced her rival squarely. "But you know as well as I do I won't - _can't_ \- stay. You need to have someone to pin this evening on, and I need to find out what happened to my father. Neither of those things can happen properly if I'm still here in the Vault. Simply letting me leave and painting whatever picture you need to in my absence will be simpler for both of us."

"I won't deny that you've proven yourself resourceful this evening." the Overseer said, a note of respect in his voice. "It just might be the case that letting you slip away in the chaos would be more expedient. You do realize the unflattering picture I'll have to paint once you're gone, of course."

"Naturally." Julia said, acknowledging the point. "While that's regrettable, I doubt I'll be able to come back here in any case. So it doesn't matter what tales you need to tell to keep the Vault from tearing itself apart. Many people already blame my father, it should be an easy sell."

"I believe we have a deal then, Ms. Mateus." he said, holding out a key. "You'll need to slip out undetected, of course. There's a hidden tunnel in my office that leads to the entrance in case of emergencies. Use this key to get inside.. the door mechanism is quite simple to operate once you have the password."

"The password is 'amata', right?" she said impishly despite the situation. "I should be able to work it out. Speaking of Amata and poor security, though.."

The Overseer grimaced. "For your information, once the password is set on a RobCo Administration Terminal, it can't be changed until a new Overseer is sworn in. Fantastically useful machines, but "security" isn't one of their selling points. As for Amata, I should be able to shield her from reprisals. She hasn't been seen aiding you? Nor you her?"

"Just by you." Julia said, shaking her head. "You'll have to think of something to tell Officer Mack here, though."

"Leave that to me." he said, a wave of great weariness coming over the man. "If only I'd been able to say for sure that you'd react reasonably to all this.. I would have been able to prevent much of this unpleasantness. But not everyone is as reasonable as you, unfortunately. I'm afraid some of our more.. zealous security forces won't be convinced to stand down while you're still walking around." He sat down at a chair near the security desk, gathering the shards of his confidence for the remainder of the evening. "Go on then, find your father. Despite our disagreements, I always did respect the man. It's a pity I couldn't have shown him more of that."

As Julia exited the room, she heard one last thing from the Overseer. "And.. I'm so sorry for what I've already done." Before she could ask him what he meant by that, the door closed and locked behind her.

_Well, fuck. What does THAT mean? Regret at having his own daughter almost tortured? Interrogated? I kind of hope so, as twisted as that sounds.._

The worry continued right up until she came across Jonas' body. It was just laid out where he'd fallen.

_..oh._ Julia thought, her mind not allowing her to be unfairly uncharitable. _Jonas... no._

Pushing her grief at the death of her friend to the back of her mind, she noticed a slightly bloodstained holotape in his hand, with the letters "JUL" visible on the label. She knelt down and carefully picked it up - as suspected, it was marked with her name. She copied the contents onto her Pip-Boy and continued into the Overseer's office. It was a voice recording of some sort. She resolved to play it later, when she wasn't in direct mortal peril.

She entered her friend's name into the Overseer's personal computer terminal, musing that caring about Amata may be one of the few things thing she and he had in common. Amata might have added "megalomania", but she was busy at this point, and not privy to those thoughts anyway. Julia picked through the Overseer's files - propaganda, spy reports, just plain, rambling bullshit, really. Two items were of interest, though - the original instructions from the company that built the vaults, and a report of a survey party about 36 years ago.

_That would have been during the tenure of he previous Overseer._ Julia noted. _Interesting. The ground isn't too badly irradiated, old maps are useless, and there's a city.. "Megaton"? Cute. May as well try and go there first, even if it's abandoned, there might be something useful._

Clicking the button to open the secret hatch, she closed the terminal session. The outer door to the office cycled shut, and the Overseer's desk rose off of the ground, revealing a staircase hidden in the floor. She headed down, and soon found herself standing in the Vault's entry hall.

It was a room of bare metal and machinery, dark and very still. There was almost a tomb-like quality about the place, subtly unsettling. Shaking off her melancholy, she made her way over to the control panel.

_Looks like it needs the password. _Julia noted. _Fortunately, the default password was in the Overseer's instructions from Vault-Tec. Aaaand.. boing._

She pulled the large lever to begin the process of opening the giant blast door. A screw mechanism came down from the ceiling, and Amata came running in from the Overseer's tunnel. Amata paused, wide-eyed at the spectacle of 13 tons of steel in motion.

"You did it!" she said, voice tinged with wonder. "Nice! I almost didn't believe it was possible."

"I couldn't have done it without your help, Amata." Julia said, regarding her friend for the last time.

"No, you didn't need me." she said, looking down, somewhat embarrassed. "If anyone can survive out there, it's you. You were always the strong one."

"Don't be silly, Amata." Julia said warmly. "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be buried in the library, forgetting to come out to eat. We've been a good team... I almost wish you could come, too."

"So do I." she said. "But with you gone, I'm the last, best hope for the Vault to have sane leadership."

"Speaking of." Julia said, outlining the deal she made with the Overseer in broad strokes. "I'd suggest going along with him publicly, and keeping the Conspiracy quiet until things blow over. I'll be able to focus much better out there if I know you're safe in here."

The giant door finished cycling open with a squeal and a bang, revealing a cave beyond.

"I'll be alright, you know me." Amata gestured with her chin to the opening. "Now go on. Before anyone comes. Find your dad. I'll miss you. You've been a good.. a good friend."

Julia swept Amata into a big hug, hanging on to one last moment of sanity, before releasing. Amata ran off into the Overseer's tunnel, and the main entrance to the room started sliding open.

"She's opening the door!" came a shout from the other side. "Stop her!"

Julia took that as her cue to leave, dashing through the cog-shaped metal door and out through the short cave. She heard shouting from within the vault, and the sirens of the door mechanism being re-engaged as she burst through the wooden door at the end of the cave - one with light brighter than any she'd ever seen shining through the cracks.

_**A/N:**_

_I've redone this chapter quite a bit after some consideration. Those who read it before will likely notice the changes, those who read it the first time this way, it was always this way. Totally. Also, the touch about not being able to change the password is my invention, but it seems in line with the rest of RobCo's "security" features._

_As always, I'd be curious to see how accessible this is to people not familiar with Fallout, so if you're such a person who found this fic, do let me know. And constructive criticism is always welcome, I'm at least 75% sure I don't actually know what I'm doing here!_


	3. Taking a Breather

_"The vulgar crowd always is taken by appearances, and the world consists chiefly of the vulgar."_

* * *

Julia sat down, leaned her head against the stone cliff, and rested. Toggling her Pip-Boy, she activated Dad's recording, and let his smooth voice wash over her bruised psyche.

_"Hold on, Jonas, I need to record this first._

_I don't really know how to tell you this. I hope you'll understand eventually, but I know you might be angry. Please don't burn down the Vault, that would be dreadfully unproductive. The truth of the matter is.. you don't need me anymore. And there are duties that I've left untended for far too long - important ones. By now you've likely figured out that neither of us were born in the Vault. I made a deal with the Overseer when you were very young - I hoped to establish a place where you could grow up safely. A place where you could learn and prosper, with your main concerns being chores and homework, and your occasionally grumpy old dad. So, in exchange for my services as Vault physician, you and I were added to the Vault population. Shortly thereafter, the Overseer sealed the Vault, cut off contact with the outside, and forbade anyone to even hint that it had ever been otherwise. I didn't like having to lie to you about something like that - I still don't. But it was the price of safety, and of our livelihood, and I would pay it twice over if I had to. Now, you're a grown adult. You have ties of your own to the Vault, and a job, as unorthodox as it is. And what I left behind out there.. it's too important to simply let wither away._

_Now, if course at this point, you're burning with curiosity. I've been unbelievably vague, and you're already imagining things that I could have been involved in. And the simple truth is, you _would_ find it fascinating. Even more so if you knew what it was. I admit this freely so that what I say next has more weight to it._

_You should avoid becoming involved with it, and would likely regret leaving the Vault. There is very little out in the world but death and radiation, and radroaches are perhaps the least of the hazards of this world. I myself am committing a foolish act by venturing back out into the wasteland, and it will likely result in my death. I wanted better for you, my only daughter. To live free of the dangers of radioactivity and murder that is life out in the world. I beg you, resist the temptation to come find me and stay home. Take a long drink of water, and remember me fondly._

_Goodbye. I love you!"_

The recording switched off with a quiet electronic beep.

_He probably knew that wouldn't work, _she mused. _but I suppose he _did_ have to try._

Julia stayed put for a long time as the roiling emotions of the past day sank in. Grief was processed, pain packaged, and regrets dealt with. By the time she was ready to face he outward world again, the rising sun was painting the scenery a vivid red.

Desolation was all that was visible, desolation stretching far off to the horizon. A cracked and useless road wound from near the base of her bluff towards the charred wooden skeleton of a pre-War town. Springvale, the one from the Overseer's terminal. The bones of a raised highway still partially stood nearby, providing shade to a bleached, scraggly ground. The unmistakable dome of the United States Capitol building stood in the distance, obviously broken and crumbling. It was like a grand art project, a study on the very spirit of entropy.

_Well, shit. Now what? _Julia thought. _This is a situation I never really planned for. Time to think._

_In the absence of plans, one defines goals, identifies ready resources, and applies said resources towards said goals. One also should take care to address specific obstacles. That said, obstacle one towards most any goal would have to be the literal radioactive wasteland out here. Pip-Boy can help me avoid the worst of the radiation, but I'll have to assume that most anything left out and about will be at least mildly radioactive. In a pinch, I can consume irradiated food and drink, but I won't want to do that for very long. So, goal one: Food and drink. Goal two: anti-radiation measures. Some type of shelter would also be a very good idea. I can probably use the Vault cave in a pinch, but I don't want to expose myself to the Overseer like that. He's probably not going to open the door again, but seeing me on that camera every day might give him ideas. If not him, some of those Security goons. Speaking of opening the door, goal 3: Find Dad. If absolutely nothing else, it's something to do, and he owes me an explanation that's seriously fucking epic in scope. We're talking the stuff legends are born from. Plus, we know Dad. If he left, he had a damned good reason too, and something like that is something that I could probably help with. After that-_

Julia's brainstorming session was blown aside by a gust of music coming from the nearby ruined street.

-_is somebody whistling Dixie down there? What in the name of Christ._

She rose to her feet and peered over the ledge. Down below, roughly following the old path of the street, was a small floating robot. It was about the size of a beachball, hovering along and blasting out patriotic music. She quickly decided to follow the little droid, reasoning that it might at least know the regional paths better than her, and might have useful information.

"Hello!" she said. "Are you a sentient robot? Some kind of experiment to determine the effects of subliminal noise on the brains of mammals? Wait no that's dumb, what _am _I on about-"

The robot gamely ignored her blathering, and she became more convinced that it was simply a platform for broadcasts, and perhaps reconnaissance. She followed the eyebot for some time, plying it fruitlessly with questions as they followed the blasted asphalt track.

"They don't talk, you know."

Julia nearly jumped out of her skin as a voice spoke up from behind her. She spun around and saw a smiling man wearing some sort of hat with goggles attached to it. Behind him was a hairless, two-headed cow and an armored man who looked like he was trying to watch everything at once. The cow had a large number of packs, boxes, and bags attached to it, and was clearly being used as a pack animal. The man seemed to be some kind of traveling merchant, which implied all sorts of interesting things (_multiple settlements, the existence of settlements, maybe even some kind of centralized currency?! Or at least a common currency. Where does he get more stock?) _Julia took in this bizarre scene and its various implications in while the smiling man continued.

"The eyebots." he said, gesturing to the small, spheroid robot. "They just play music, blast stray dogs, and occasionally play speeches."

Julia nodded, and made a mental note of what he'd said. Especially the part about "blasting" stray dogs.. she'd have to watch out for that. "Thanks for clearing that up for me." she said. "My name is Julia, and I'm looking for a place to find some food."

"I am called Crow." the man said, inclining his head in greeting. "As for what I do, well. Some say that it's the clothes that make the man. If that's the case, I have the means to re-make one's self."

Julia raised an eyebrow while he chuckled at his private joke. _A traveling _clothing_ merchant? Who apparently does enough business to still be alive.. interesting. _

"If clothes make the man, then what makes a woman?" she asked, out of curiosity towards what he'd say than anything else. Knocking people off of their scripts was a hobby of hers, after all. As expected, he made a face like that two-headed cow of his (_seriously, what the hell?_) had kicked him squarely between the eyes.

"You know, nobody's asked me that before." he said, contemplatively. "I'm not sure myself."

"Maybe I could find out for you, and then tell you if I find out?" Julia asked, continuing to riff off the joke.

"I'll do you one better." Crow said, rummaging around in one of his packs, and removing a dark bundle of fabric. "Wear this. If anything will reveal the truth, _this_ will."

Julia took the package and unwrapped it. It was a dark grey business suit. The fabric felt kind of odd, but otherwise, it seemed like a normal business suit. "Is this the suit of some famous, mysterious vigilante or something?"

"Not that I know of." Crow said, turning to leave. "But it's a _very_ nice suit. Someday, if we meet again, you'll have to tell me what you learn from it."

"..right." Julia said, not wanting to be rude, but.. suit. "Oh! By the way, about food?"

"Megaton." Crow said simply, pointing off to the left, and wandering down the road. Julia followed the finger and soon found herself standing in front of a set of gates made of what seemed to be airplane wings, powered by a jet engine, and recessed into a thick metal wall made of junk. Above the engine was a painted sign reading simply "MEGATON". As she approached, the gates whirred noisily to life. She held her arm in front of her face as the powerful turbine blew up a small dust storm. By the time it subsided, the gates were fully open, and a semi-humanoid robot stood on the other side of where the gate had been, in front of an inner door.

"Welcome to Megaton." it said in its modulated monotone as she walked past, spotting a tall man in a cowboy hat and duster walking towards her further into the city. "The bomb is perfectly safe. We promise."

Julia froze in her tracks on the other side of the door, a cold sweat breaking out down her back.

_THE WHAT?!_

_**A/N:**_

_Somewhat shorter chapter, but I do kind of like ending on a brown note. Who wouldn't?_

_People who played the game might remember Crow and his one good line, as well as his unusual manner. Figures the first person she meets is a little crazy, isn't it? Next chapter will come very shortly after I write it._


	4. Portrait of an Atomic City

_"I love those dear hearts and gentle people... Who live in my home town.."_

* * *

Lucas Simms had seen many things during his tenure as Megaton's lawman. Giant ants, more raiders than he could shake a stick at. Hell, one time he would swear he saw a giant lizard with claws as long as his arm. He took pride in keeping his hometown safe from the wasteland, and he had a lot of experience doing it. In his heart though, he was a good man. Thus, when a pale girl in a Vault uniform with an oversized knapsack showed up at the gate, he figured he should let her in and see what she needed. Megaton was a shelter to those who needed it, at least for a little while.

"Well I'll be damned." he said, walking up to her and tipping his hat. "You're from that vault! Vault 101! Ha ha! I ain't seen one of those jumpsuits in a LONG time! Name's Lucas Simms, town sheriff. And mayor too, when the need arises. Welcome to Megaton!"

When she failed to respond to his welcoming spiel, he followed her (slightly twitching) gaze down to the center of the crater that the town was built around, and the spot where the town's namesake still rested.

"Ah yes. The bomb." he said, sighing.

"Yes! The bomb!" the Vault dweller said, snapping out of her daze. "Who would build a town around an atomic bomb? That's crazy!"

Lucas agreed, but it's not like there was much he could do about it. "It's not like the place was put up overnight." he said, shrugging. "Megaton's been here for decades, been growing ever since the first folks gave up on trying to get into Vault 101 and built a shack in the crater. Hell, some people worship the damn thing like a god these days! Most people just don't give a shit anymore. They figure if it ain't gone off by now, it never will."

"That's not exactly reassuring." she said, calming down a bit. "It's a bomb. Even a broken nuclear bomb still has things that can explode in it. Some of the priming charges could go off and spray plutonium on everyone. Or just make a big hole in your wall and let a tide of radscorpions in. Or-"

He held up a hand. The girl was right, even if he didn't know what a "primer charge" was. He never did like having the damn thing around. "I agree with you. But messing around with pre-War ordinance isn't exactly my area of expertise. I'm as likely to set it off as disarm it."

Steely resolve seemed to visibly enter the Vault girl's vibrant green eyes. "There must be some information around about the structure of that bomb. I'll figure out how to disarm it, or find someone who can. Nobody should have to live like... like this. Nobody."

The iron in her tone reminded Simms of that guy on the radio- Eden, or whatever. They each had that preacher's fire in their words. She'd found a cause, and was willing to go to hell and back to see it done, and damned if it didn't make Simms wonder just why they hadn't found someone to make sure they weren't all going to be blown up yet.

Granted, the girl was more likely to get eaten by a bloatfly next time she left the town, but he could admire her nerve. And hell, maybe the kid could actually make it. Maybe she could even disarm the damn bomb.

"Don't go monkeying with the thing unless you're really sure." he said. "But if you get the job done, there'll be 100 caps in it for you."

"I don't need a reward for this one." the kid said almost reflexively, as if the very idea seemed off to them. "This is just something that has to be done."

Simms raised an eyebrow. Was the kid some sort of do-gooder? She'd definitely get eaten alive out there. "Great! Go ahead and see what you can do. Just be careful. Now, what brings you to town?"

She seemed to shake herself, as if to shake off her panic."Actually, I came here looking for something to eat. I was.. in a hurry when I left my last place, and I didn't grab anything. A strange man named Crow told me to come here."

She was definitely doomed. Poor kid. Still, if she managed to get more than just that lame joke out of Crow, there must be something to her. "If you want something to eat, head over to the Brass Lantern. It's not fancy, but it's edible. If you're short on caps, I hear Moira Brown up in Craterside Supply has been pestering people to help her with some sort of experiment."

The kid visibly perked up at that last word. "She's doing experiments? I should go see what that's all about."

Doooooomed. Doomed all over Moira's floor, and probably on the ceiling. "Just watch yourself, kid. Don't let Moira talk you into anything... weird."

"Sure thing, sheriff." she turned to leave, before she was visibly struck by a thought. "Oh! By the way, have you seen a middle aged man recently? About yay high, looks kinda like me."

_The other Vault wacko? Yes, he definitely did see that man._ "Come to think of it, I do remember a stranger coming through here. Had a look in his eye. You know the kind a man gets when he's got a purpose." _Sound familiar, kid? Maybe it runs in the family._ "Spent some time up in the saloon. Might want to check with Moriarty. Just watch yourself. That man's trouble."

"Thanks for all your help, Sheriff." she said, nodding once and heading off in the general direction of Moira's shop.

_Hope you manage to stick around, kid._ Simms thought to himself, heading back to his patrol. _We could use more folks like you._

-0-

Nobody was entirely sure what Moira Brown's "deal" was. She'd floated into town a few years back with a bored mercenary and a load of junk. Since then, she'd dedicated herself to the upkeep, utility, and resale of said junk, gradually becoming a vital part of Megaton's commerce. She even got her own sign. She was always proud of that. Nevertheless, she often seemed... odd.. to the other residents. She was nice enough, but asking her questions tended to only increase your confusion. Most folk didn't bother anymore, keeping their interactions with the chirpy shopkeep to a minimum. This, in turn, suited her fine, as it left more time for her "research". Eventually, though, she began to develop a more social streak. "more social" being a relative measure, of course - she needed field researchers. And since she didn't have the parts to build them, she had to hire them. Which meant talking to people.

The first few began promisingly. A quick soil survey here, computer science experiment there, a study of the local fauna. None of them really seemed to "get" the purpose of it, though. Of course activating the computerized turrets means you'll get shot at! And knowing that centaurs think that people smell tasty is vital data! But no, instead of being excited for the new data, they would just yell at her. With mean, mean words. And then they'd leave.

Moira had begun to worry that she might never find someone with a similar enough mind, someone curious enough to value the data for its own sake. Then, one day, a Vault Dweller of all things arrived in her store, and started ogling all her bits and bobs.

_Yay!_ she thought to herself. _Curiosity! I'd better make a good impression!_

"Hey, new in town? Good to meet you! I'm Moira Brown." she greeted the newcomer, putting on her very friendliest voice. "I take care of supplies and repairs here, but what I really do is mostly tinkering and research."

"Research?" the newcomer asked intently. "What kind of research?"

_Oh boy oh boy oh boy this is gonna be GREAT!_

"I'm writing a book that could help the _whole world!_" she said, enthusiasm running away with her as usual. "And I could use a bit of help. I can pay you, and it'll be fun!"

"A...book?"

"Well, the wasteland is a dangerous place, right?" she said, launching into her pitch. "Lots of things are dangerous, but a lot of them come with a manual to show people how to use them safely. So I want to make a manual for surviving in the wasteland! I call it the Wasteland Survival Guide! But for that to work, I need someone to go out and test my theories. How about it?"

"Well..." the girl said, considering Moira's best proposal yet. "I suppose it would be a good thing to be a bit more scientific about figuring these things about. You're essentially offering to pay me to help you figure out ways to survive in the wasteland?"

"You're pretty sharp!" Moira beamed. "I'd give you this armored Vault suit to get you started, but it looks like you got Crow's special suit already. You're pretty well covered on coverings!"

"Are you sure?" the girl asked. "Because "armored" sounds like a bit of a better idea-"

"Nonsense!" Moira cut off the kid's weird ramblings. How could anyone not like Crow's special suit? "It's a very nice suit. Now, the first chapter I'm working on is about day to day survival. Food, water, medicine, radiation, all that fun stuff! For starters, there's an old Super-Duper mart not too far from here. I'll bet there's all sorts of old food and medicine there! Go have a look and let me know how that goes!"

"...sure. I'll do that." the Vault dweller said. "For now though, maybe just some trading?"

"You bet, super research assistant!" Moira chirped. _Finally, I can save the world! I'll show those doubters what Moira Brown can do. I'll show them all!_

-0-

Moriarty's Saloon of Megaton was the sole oasis of civilzation in the midst of a vast, inhospitible land. And no one worked harder to make it so than its proprietor, Colin Moriarty. He surveyed his establishment with pride. Behind the bar, Gob was bitching to Nova about the radio. His employees were annoying, but Gob worked for cheap, and having a hooker on staff meant he'd always have a leg open on the competition. Smiling at his own pun, he continued his survey from the upper level. A man in a slick suit sat in an alcove off to the side that Colin thought of as his "dining area" and various patrons milled around at and around the bar. Business was good, the caps were flowing, and the booze was just like the caps - though ideally much more slowly. Just then, a kid came in - couldn't have been more than 20. Moriarty made it his business to know everyone around, so someone new turning up was interesting. He listened in as she sat down, and Gob offered her a drink. The kid pretended that Gob wasn't a worthless zombie, and as usual, Gob went all mushy over that. Well, mushier than usual, Moriarty mused. Having a ghoul as a bartender was good for the profit margins, but sometimes the smell got to be a bit much. He'd pretend not to notice the little discounts Gob gave out, and Gob would pretend not to notice the caps withheld from his pay every week.

_Ah, the little lies we tell ourselves to get through the day._ Moriarty mused amusedly to himself as he continued to monitor their conversation. Gob whined a bit to the kid about the Galaxy News Radio station going offline. Moriarty didn't care much for the station or its opinionated host, but the customers seemed to like it, so he kept it on. Personally, he hoped it would stay offline for good. His musing almost distracted him from the kid's next question - about that guy who came through a while back looking to get into the Vault nearby. Folk like that weren't exactly unheard of, but this one was memorable since he'd apparently made it. The fact that his escort was wearing powered armor didn't hurt his memorability either. It seems the kid was asking about his whereabouts - that part was easy, at least. He'd passed through town yesterday, off to see the people at Galaxy News.

_Hope he didn't go to fix their antenna._ Moriarty thought with a shudder. _I'm not looking forward to the yapping of that Three Dog to start up again._

True to his training, Gob didn't tell the kid a thing about the Vault guy. Information was a commodity, after all, and there's no free drinks at Moriarty's.

Gob explained a bit about ghouls to the kid - hadn't she ever seen a ghoul before? Maybe she had been raised in a Vault. In any case, after the lecture on ghoul biology, the kid got up and made for the stairs. Moriarty ducked into a side room, and prepared to do business. He smoothed out his hair in the mirror, ran a finger through his Van Dyke beard, and made a show of straightening the mattresses of the beds in the inn portion. As expected, the kid was hesitant to interrupt, but did so anyway.

_My, we _are_ green, aren't we? Time to turn on the old Irish charm, Colin me boy._

"Why, hello there! Colin Moriarty, at your service! Welcome to Moriarty's! My saloon, my home, my slice of heaven in this backwoods little burg." he said expansively, gesturing around as if to indicate the entirety of the saloon. "If you've got the caps, I've got your pleasure. Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable. Your troubles are a thing of the past."

"You've got quite the sales pitch, Mr. Moriarty." the kid said, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

_Green, but not overly credulous. More profit that way, anyway._

"I should, by now." he said, chuckling and switching gears. "I've only been at this for forty years, after all! Now what can I do ya for?"

"I'm looking for my father." she explained. "I hear he passed through town not so long ago, and I'm wondering where he went. Middle-aged guy, about yay high, looks kinda like me."

_Fucking called that one._ he mentally congratulated himself. _They even have the same eyes. Now make some caps!_

"My God... It's you. The little baby girl, all grown up. Persistent little flower, ain't ya?" he made a great show of having just come to a realization. "Then and now, it would seem. It's been a long time, kid. "

"I .. what?" the girl asked, confused. "Have we met before?"

_Mark's off balance. Time to deliver an uppercut._

"Your father brought you to the Vault right after you were born." he narrated colorfully. "To keep you safe, you see. I remember it well - you stayed in my saloon, after all. Your father, his Brotherhood of Steel friend, and you, the suckling babe with nary a tit to suckle. Sorry about your mom. Truly."

"Nice of you to say." she said. "Does that mean you've seen him more recently?"

"Oh, your daddy passed through here, all right." he said. "Here and gone. Got what he came for, and then left. I'm assuming you'll do the same, correct?"

_She's reluctant, but buying it. Moriarty realized. Always more fun to spin a line of bullshit when you've been feeding the cow on truth._

"That's the general plan, yes." she said, visibly getting a bit impatient. "And I'd love to be pointed in the right direction."

_Bait's set. Now reeeeel her in.._

"Look, you seem like a nice kid. But I'll be straight with you. Yes I know where your daddy went. But what you're asking me for is information, and information is a commodity. Let's say... 100 caps, and daddy's location is yours. Very reasonable."

The kid paled, as expected. 100 caps was several months' pay for most people, and more like eight if you worked for Moriarty. Still, he wasn't looking for a _direct_ profit here...

"I, ah." the kid hedged. "I don't have that kind of money on hand.."

_And now the haymaker. God, I love this game._

"Well.." he said thoughtfully, "if you don't have the caps to pay for the information, then maybe you could do a little favor for me."

Seeing the horrified look on the kid's face, he continued in a hurry. _Once was enough for that kind of favor._ he reassured himself. _Nova's great, but I'm no Slaver._

"There's this junkie bitch named Silver what borrowed quite a few caps from me... claimed she could start funneling Jet and Psycho to me for a good price. Turns out she's a liar. She's holed up down in Springvale shooting herself into a stupor. Go get the caps back from her and I'll tell you whatever you want to know about your dear old Dad."

"You want me to go chase down one of your stray junkies?" the kid asked, sounding dubious. "Don't you have other people to do your dirty work?"

"Dirty work? Why, I never!" Colin said, pouring the essence of a wounded man into each syllable. "Theft is theft, no matter what you might think of the person stolen from. I'm just asking you to get my own property back! And offering you a way to get what you want out of the deal, too!"

"..alright, I'll go have a look." she said.

"Now, that's the spirit!" Colin said jovially. "You'll be on your way in no time! Was there anything else you needed before we part ways?"

The kid clearly didn't want to talk with him more, but she had something she just had to know. Everyone does, eventually.

"Do you know anything about atomic bombs?" she asked.

_Better just stay clear of this one_. he mused._ I can tell a grand story about that just as well as the next man, but she might take what I say to that giant dud in the middle of town. And then we'll be ashes. _

"No more than the next man, I reckon." he said. "Off you go, now!"

The kid left, and Moriarty mused on the last person to ask him about atomic bombs.

_ I'll bet that slick creep Burke will be all over her if he heard that_. he thought, shaking his head. _There's something not right about that man. Still, either I trade a useless bit of info for Silver's loan back, or I lose essentially nothing. I do love it when Fortune smiles on this old bar._

Moriarty went back to work, whistling as he went.

-0-

_Why do I feel like I just got played?_ Julia thought to herself. _OH RIGHT BECAUSE I DID. Argh. Still, it's not the worst thing in the world. Springvale isn't far, and it's not likely there'll be other leads about Dad. I wonder if there's any old lib-_

Her internal musings were cut off by a voice coming from behind her, nearly startling her out of her "very nice" suit.

"An impressive array of interests." it said. She whirled around, and saw the slick suited man from earlier seated on a chair. He beckoned her over, and she reluctantly came into quiet conversation range.

"Atomic weapons, ex-Vault scientists, maybe even the Brotherhood of Steel. My, you do live an interesting life, don't you?"

The man chuckled darkly, and a chill went down Julia's spine. "Hello to you, too." she said cautiously.

"So nice to have a civilized conversation, even in these blasted wastes." he oozed. "My name is Burke, and I merely wished to ... extend an offer. One that might be of interest to someone such as yourself."

"I'm listening." Julia said, holding onto her arm so skin didn't crawl off and bounce out the door.

"You are not the only one around with interests in... nuclear devices." he said, standing up and breathing the words "nuclear devices" into her ear like someone might whisper "chocolate peanut butter". "My.. associates have much information about such things." he said, walking around her and visibly appraising her. "If you want this information, seek us out. Tenpenny Tower. Don't be late.."

He breezed out the door, and Julia just shuddered. _I'll never be clean again. And the worst part is that I'll probably end up going there. It's the only solid lead I have on atomic bomb design._

Shaking her head, she pocketed her stims and caps, slid the pistol into a handy hip holster, and hung the bat on a loop on the back of the suit that seemed designed for just such a thing.

_At least I have something to do, now_. she thought to herself as she strode toward the town gate with a fresh wave of confidence in her step. _Making some cash, finding Dad, saving the world.. well, at least the first one. I'll play the rest by ear._

The gust of wind from the gate's jet engine buffeted her face, creating a somewhat dramatic picture for anyone standing outside.

_Watch out, wasteland._ she thought, striding through._ It's Mateus time._

_**A/N:**_

_Dealing with Moira is not for the faint of heart. But hey, money! Also, Julia probably would recognize an "Irish" accent, as most of her knowledge comes from books and old movies. My headcanon is that she and Moriarty both learned about Irish accents from Darby O'Gill and the Little People. I know that in canon he's an immigrant, so he's legitly Irish here, but goddamn is that a terrible fake in the game._

_I've re-worked this chapter quite a bit to be more in line with what I'm planning here, and with the title. I'd imagine Chapter 5 will be up before too much longer, so stay tuned. I've also re-done bits of the previous chapters, so if parts seem different, it's probably because they are._

_As always, reviews are my crack. Be my enabler?_


	5. Super Savings!

_"God made all men, but Samuel Colt made all men equal."_

* * *

It didn't take long for Julia to find her way back to the old highway that passed nearish to the entrance of Megaton, and started heading south to the ruins of the town of Springvale.

_Probably those burnt-out house frames I saw from the Vault door._ she thought as she travelled down the road. _The reports on the Overseer's computer mentioned that Springvale was an empty ruin - why would someone be living there? Gee, maybe because they're hiding from the local loan shark and don't want to be found. For all the good it did. Speaking of, how am I going to play this? "Hi! You nicked some money, I'm here to collect!"_

She grimaced, stepped over a loose paving stone, and tried again.

_"Have you heard the good news? Also, hand over the cash!" "Oi, Moriarty sez youse gotta pay up. Make with the caps or I start on _YOUR_ caps, capisce?"_

_...heck with it. I'll just knock and stand clear in case she's got a shotgun. Why did I sign up for Junior Debt Collector duty again?_

Within half an hour, she found herself staring at the front door of the last house still standing in the old town. Its placement at the base of a bluff might have protected it from the nuclear blast that incinerated the rest of the town, leaving it crumbly, but intact.

_Here goes nothing._

Two sharp raps on the door later, a woman's head appeared from the other side of it.

"Yeah?" she said, faintly annoyed. "Who is it?"

"..Ms. Silver, I presume?" Julia said, noting the very light blond shade of the hermit's hair.

"Who the hell are you?!" she asked, instantly on the defensive. "Where did you come from?! Did Moriarty send you?!"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean - look, it's kind of complicated." Julia stammered. "Can we maybe talk about this?"

"Whatever. Come on in..." The woman sighed wearily, retracting her head, but leaving the door ajar. Taking the hint, our valiant protagonist followed suit. She took a brief moment to examine the interior.

_For the last remnant of a bombed-out town, this isn't a half-bad little townhouse._ she mused. _Granted, most of the furniture looks like it came with the place, but it's still cozy in a "soft rains" kind of way._

Silver stood inside the vestibule impatiently. "Well, you said you wanted to talk." the older woman prompted. "So talk. Start with the part about Moriarty."

"He sent me to get the caps you have back." Julia said, diplomatically avoiding the word "took". "Something about a deal gone south?"

Seeing the darkening expression on Silver's face, she hurriedly continued. "He's probably exaggerating a bit, though. You know how Moriarty is with caps!"

_Please don't shoot me, I'm too young to die!_

Fortunately, this seemed to establish a shard of common ground to stand on.

"Moriarty and his caps." Silver said, shaking her head ruefully. "What's your stake in this, anyway? He hasn't tried to.. hire.. you or anything yet, has he?"

"He has some information that I need, and I'm pretty sure he's the only one who can give it to me." the young wanderer explained. "But 'information is a commodity, lass, so I kent give you anything for free, now can I?' So he sent me here."

Silver actually chuckled at the bad impression of Moriarty's showy brogue. "All that for 300 lousy caps? Look, kid.. I used to work for that slob. Doing... you know... favors for guys. One day, I just couldn't do it anymore. I told Moriarty that I was gonna take my share and split."

Silver started gesturing, visibly getting worked up. "Hell, I even slept with the pig to seal the deal! But the next morning, he's changed his mind, he says. Says I reminded him what an 'asset' I was to the saloon. So I knocked him on his ass, grabbed my back pay, and split. Thought I got away clean. But now here _you_ are."

"He knew exactly where you were, too." Julia said, blowing a frustrated breath through her teeth. "Well, shoot. This is a heck of a situation, isn't it? If I don't bring back the caps to Moriarty, I can kiss that info goodbye. But I'm not just gonna take 'em from you, either."

"If I were you, I'd just walk away while you still can. What kind of info could be that important, anyway?"

_I should probably stop telling my life story and/or primary goals to literally everyone I meet. But heck, in for a penny.._

"It's my dad." Julia admitted. "I'm trying to find my dad, and Moriarty is the last guy who saw him."

"...dammit." Silver said. "Look, kid, just take the caps and go. Moriarty's destroyed enough lives over these things as it is. I don't want this one on my conscience, too. I got enough regrets."

She went into the back of the house briefly, and tossed over a small sack of jingly metal. Julia took a peek to make sure they were caps, before nodding.

"That's really nice of you, Silver." Julia said. "Look, if you're going to find a new hideout, I could tell Moriarty you're dead. If nothing else, it might keep him off of your trail for a while."

"I'd appreciate that, kid." she said, smiling. "Good luck with your dad. I've got some packing to do."

As Julia was about to shut the door, Silver called out. "Hey! Make sure you tell him a good story about it! Say you found me with four dead raiders or something, strangling a fifth!"

"You'll be a legend by sundown!" she yelled back, laughing as she shut the door.

_That.. went pretty well, actually._ she thought, heading back up the road, whistling Dixie. _I wonder if most people out here are actually decent sorts-_

Julia's thought process was interrupted by a bullet slamming into her shoulder, sending her sprawling into the asphalt.

-0-

"Call the doctor, we got a bleeder!"

A mocking voice rang out from somewhere behind where our intrepid protagonist had taken a fall. She was somewhat surprised to still be conscious, honestly.

_OW OW OW WHAT THE HELL. ALSO OW. Have I been shot? _There was a shooting pain in her left shoulder, but it was still movable. A quick self-check showed that she was still more or less intact. _If I was shot, then I was really lucky. I'd better get m-YEEP!_

Another bullet struck the asphalt nearby, sending up a small burst of pebbles and particulates. She scootched up to a semi-crouching position and ran for cover behind an old chimney.

_It's coming from the old school!_ she realized, once she could take a moment and breathe. _Also, how am I not bleeding all over the place? I can't quite reach behind me, but I can still use the arm.. whatever. Brain, if you figure out how to get me out of this in one piece, I'll figure out the bullet thing later, I promise._

More bullets came from the schoolhouse and peppered the area. _It seems like it's coming from the upper level. If I can get back around the bend of the road, I should be able to move out of their line of sight. _

She risked a glance around the corner immediately after one of the shots rang out - they'd been spaced oddly to begin with. Her reward was seeing two people wearing worn sports equipment and carrying pool cues heading towards her.

"Do you like the sight of your own blood?!" one of them yelled at her.

_Okay yes moving soon. Also, gun? Yes, gun. _

She pulled the 10mm pistol out of its holster and palmed it, heading carefully around the old timber frames of the houses. She aimed roughly at the second floor of the school and squeezed the trigger. The gun jerked violently in her hand and the shot went wild, nearly causing her to drop the thing. She barely made it to the next house before whoever the other maniac with a gun drew a bead on her again.

_Crap. Newton. OW! Recoil! GAAAAH_

She braced her firing hand with her other hand and managed to fire a shot without hurting so much, though it still didn't go much toward the target. Fortunately, the pool-cue duo noticed and ducked to their own cover. Double fortunately, she was just about to a point where the terrain would provide natural cover and she could head back towards Megaton at a dead sprint. Firing three shots more or less in the general direction of the bad guys, she dove around the corner and took off running, not slowing or stopping until she reached the city gate of Megaton.

Once inside, she flopped over onto the ground, panting from the heat and exertion.

_Why?_ she scolded herself while catching her breath. _Why did I think using a real gun would be anything like a spring-loaded BB gun? I'm supposed to be smarter than that!_

She just laid there in the shade for a bit, until Sheriff Simms came running up to check on her.

"I heard someone came through the gate like they were bringin' company." he rumbled. "Lucky for us, whoever it was seems to have decided to turn back. Luckier for them, though."

"Sheriff Simms. Nice to see you again." Julia mumbled from face down in the dirt. "How's _your_ day going?"

"A fair sight better than yours, I'd say." he laughed. "Looks like you've got some lead on you."

"I wha-ow!" she exclaimed as the large man with the large hat bent down and plucked something off her sore shoulder. Sitting up, she saw that it was a squashed bullet.

"Looks like that sport jacket of yours isn't just for lookin' fancy." he said, eyebrow raised.

"...it's a _very_ nice suit." Julia parroted, beginning to suspect the truth behind that statement.

"Reckon so, kid. Reckon so." he turned to leave, and waved casually. "Try not to get shot up anyway, though."

"Ermph." she stood, dusted herself off a bit, and flexed her sore arm. There would definitely be a shiner there, that was for sure.

_In the meantime, though, one of these will help things along._

She pulled a stimpack out of her pocket, and inserted the thin hypodermic needle into her arm, releasing its healing compounds into her system. Grunting and flexing a little to work the medicine into the tissue, she headed up to the saloon to have a word with an Irishman.

-0-

"Back already? I should have known Silver wouldn't put up much of a fight, she never has, really."

_I'm going to pretend he didn't say that, and then everyone can remain happy._

"Actually, she was dead when I got there." Julia said, beginning a tale. "Looks like some hooligans set up in the old schoolhouse and snuck in on her. I got to the house, and found her lying there near a bunch of other dead guys."

"Aye, well, it's a rough life out in the wastes." Moriarty said equanimously. "One less thing I have to worry about going forward. Did you manage to find the caps?"

Julia held up a slightly blood-stained bag of caps, not mentioning that the blood was from a scraped knee rather than a pitched battle, and jingled it a little for emphasis.

"Ah, the sweet sound of success." he said, smiling warmly. "Always brightens my day."

"Yeah, it's the auditory equivalent of being tickled by an angel in your most sensitive spots." Julia snarked back. "So about my father?"

"Well, fair's fair, I suppose." he said, snapping out of his reverie. "You brighten my day, I brighten yours. Your dad said he was headed southeast, into the city. Said was aiming for Galaxy News Radio."

Julia tossed over the bag of caps, and Moriarty grinned.

"No idea what he wanted with them, but I suppose you can ask him when you get there. Good luck with that, by the way.."

By the end of the sentence, he was already mostly tuned out of it, going into "cap counting" mode. Julia took the opportunity to make a discreet exit.

She spotted Sheriff Simms searching like a sentry over the soiled scrubland.

"Howdy, Sheriff! Two questions, if you've got a minute! First, who's the doctor around here? Second, do you know how to get to Galaxy News Radio?"

"Our clinic is down in the crater, by the bomb. Doc Church is a little rough around the edges, but the man's got talent and compassion." Simms recited in the manner of someone who gave that pointer with frequency. "As for Galaxy News, you'll want to head across the river and use the old subway system. There should be markings leading the way - some kinda Brotherhood base out that way."

"Thanks again, Sheriff!" Julia chirped, heading down to see the doctor.

"I'd practice with that pistol of yours before you go." he warned. "You don't get bruises like those on your hand many ways, and only one of 'em is common to newbie gun owners."

"Thanks for the tip." she said, rubbing her sore hand. "I'll do just that."

Simms nodded, accepting that, and Julia headed down to the base of the large impact crater that served as the base for the city of Megaton. She eyed the large atomic warhead in the middle of it warily as she made her way around the side of the crater, and up onto a catwalk which served as the base for the clinic.

Doc Church turned out to be a cranky, though efficient medical practitioner, who bandaged her arm and gave some general advice and diagnoses for healing up. It cost about half the caps she'd accumulated by that point, but you don't mess around with things like that. From there, she went up to the communal bunkhouse and fell sound asleep in seconds.

**Sunday, August 19, 2277 - 0620**

If you'd asked Julia on Wednesday what her plans for Sunday were, her answer would have likely been more along the lines of "yet _more_ paperwork" or "pestering Amata". None of them would have started before 10:30, and "bullets" likely wouldn't have even been considered in the drafting phase. Life doesn't always go the way we intend though, which is how Ms. Mateus found herself taking potshots at poor, innocent Nuka-cola bottles on the brighter side of the crack of dawn.

_*spak-plink!*_

_*spak-plink!*_

Fortunately, once she'd managed to figure out the recoil thing, she was able to apply what she knew of aiming to the "real gun" she had now.

_I still kind of prefer the *phht* noise the BB gun made to the *spak* of the pistol. But needs be as needs must, I guess. Better stop here, I've got a decent handle on this, and I'm not made of bullets here. _

She gathered up the last few bottles, musing briefly that they weren't terribly far from where she found them in the first place and therefore needn't bother.

_Screw it. I refuse to litter even if it maintains the status quo. You see this, world? This is a line in the sand! I shall NOT yield!_

_...note to self. Allow nifty pain drugs to metabolize more thoroughly before sleeping. End up loopy on waking otherwise._

_...I'm still not going to litter, though._

On that note, she headed off to what remained of the Potomac River. The water levels had receded significantly since the Great War for some reason, leaving many piers and boats stranded on land. It was more of a murky, radioactive trough in some places than a proper river. Megaton was about half an hour's walk from its western banks, so Julia set out promptly. Due east from Megaton turned out to be the site of an old grocery store, right on the river.

_Well, that's convenient. May as well poke my head in and check it out for Moira while I'm in the neighborhood._

The old building was about as sturdy as any still standing - not completely, but servicably. A large sign standing in the crumbly remains of a parking lot loudly proclaimed that this was a Super Duper Mart!

_With savings like that, how can I resist?_

Julia found an old Nuka-Cola machine out front, which still had stock inside it somehow.

_Automated delivery robots? Self-replenishing stock? Lack of demand for warm, flat cola? Whatever. Their loss is my gain! If I just fiddle this thing like SO-_

_Bingo._

Julia's childhood of reading and fiddling with stuff was no match for the vending machine's ancient coin mechanism, and soon she had three new(ish) bottles of Nuka-Cola. Not long after that, three freshly empty ones.

_Damn, that hits the spot. Oh caffiene, how I have missed you~_

Tossing the empties in the nearby trash can, she headed inside. The interior was dominated by a single large warehouse space, with shelf units forming aisles. There were cash registers at checkout stations along the front wall, leading over to what looked like a break room of some sort. People patrolled on crude walkways atop the shelves. It was too dark to make out who they were, but discretion is, as always, the better part of valor. Julia carefully snuck along the back wall, darting from checkout counter to checkout counter, checking each register for anything interesting. Each one was still full of cash.

_I guess before the bombs fell, nobody had time to clean them out. And after, nobody was using dollars for much. May as well grab them and play pretend, though._

Several hundred worthless dollars later, she arrived at the break room. There was a refrigerator unit there, still running.

_Probably a fission cell or something. Not much activity in the mains these days. Holding my nose, aaaand! Presto!_

The fridge was full of old, yet well preserved food items. Canned beans, tins of spiced ham, Salisbury steak, that sort of thing. She pocketed the ham and turned to go just as she spotted a "Super Duper Pharmacy" in the back.

_Well, hm. I don't really want to tangle with those guys in the middle, but I do need some medicine. Plus how could I face Moira if I didn't at least try? ...gah! Are those GRENADES?_

Sure enough, sitting on the countertop near the fridge were three grenades, pin and all.

_Oh this is such a bad idea. BUT._

Julia gingerly pocketed the grenades, praying she would be able to not carry them soon, and crept back to the pharmacy area. Keeping to the darker areas and thanking whatever gods might still be listening that her sneakers were living up to their name, she gradually crossed the store. Eventually, she made it - but there was one of those sports-equipment nutbars blocking the door.

_Screw it. They're raiders. That's what everyone else calls them. And.. I wonder if this is crazy enough to work?_

She took one of the grenades and hefted it, feeling its weight. Judging the distance and toss was tricky, but it was still a matter of basic physics. Once she mapped the trajectory, she pulled the pin and tossed the grenade towards the door.

It landed with a quiet *_thud_* near the raider's feet and rolled slightly. He bent down to look at it, and Julia took advantage of his momentary confusion to duck behind the solid granite countertop. Shortly afterward, the raider painted the walls, and all hell broke loose.

The raiders were running around and yelling, some blaming the others, one of them accusing the dead one of hoarding grenades. None of them had yet considered the possibility of another party - a mistake said party used to sneak into the enclosed pharmacy area and close the door behind her.

_Right then. What have we here?_

The pharmacy was well stocked, serving as a bizarre combination of armory and medical supply spot. Stimpacks, painkillers, cola, and radiation drugs were stocked alongside spare clips, grenades, and what looked like a miniature nuke on shelves which mostly filled the room. There was a RobCo terminal on the back wall, near a large metal cylinder of some kind. Julia gathered the more portable items into a nearby shopping bag, along with what looked like an employee ID card. Against her terrified instincts, she also grabbed the nuke-football-looking thing. It wasn't emitting any rads, and somebody might pay money for it. As she was packing, the metal cylinder on the far wall slid open with a hiss of steam. She whirled around to see what was going on, and a robot stepped out.

Different from the eyebot she'd seen earlier, this one was decidedly more humanoid. It had arms, legs, and a "head" dome thing on a vaguely cylindrical torso. It turned towards her, and she readied herself to run. It spoke in a harsh, halting robotic voice.

"Gree-tings fell-ow em-ploy-ee. Please take co-ver un-til the law-break-ers are dealt with."

With that, it headed out the door into the Super Duper Mart proper. Julia hung back partly out of curiosity, and partly out of fear. Before long, she heard more robotic vocalizations, followed by screams and flashes of red light from outside the door. Within five minutes, the only sound that was left was the slow "clank" of the robot's return.

"Or-der has been re-stored. Thank you for wor-king at the Sup-er Dup-er Mart. Have a nice day."

It headed back out into the room and started some kind of patrol pattern. Julia hefted up the bag and made for the exit. There were no raiders left in the store, but there were small piles of ash here and there. Unashamed, she ran for the doors and out into the sunlight.

That is, until she nearly tripped over a small child running directly at her while screaming.

"Those monsters... th-they're gonna' get me. Help! Help me!"

_This is gonna be a long day, isn't it? _she sighed, palming her face.

_**A/N:**_

_Brings new meaning to the term "suit of armor", doesn't it? It's a bit of a contrivance, but it at least lets us keep things moving along without getting _too_ bogged down in gear management. And hey, survived her first fight! Granted, it was by exercising the better part of valor, but she's working on it. Next chapter posted eventually!_

_Also if you only get updates for new chapters, I rewrote about a fifth of the story previously, so you might want to go back and re-read those if you had read them before. If you're reading these notes in some mystical future time, in the era of Chapter 6 and beyond, then please disregard these scribblings. Just this paragraph, not the - oh, you know what I mean._


	6. Hubris

_"Any scientist who can't explain to an eight-year old what he is doing is a charlatan."_

* * *

In the dilapidated parking lot outside the Super-Duper Mart, our heroine was faced with one of the more difficult encounters in the game of life - a small, terrified child.

"Please, you've got to help me!" he said, wide eyes staring up from a round face streaked with tears. "They're going to get me!"

Julia knelt down so that she was eye to eye with the little boy. "Hey, hey. Ssh. It's going to be alright." she said, using her "gentle voice". "I'll figure out a way to help. Okay?"

_I probably don't have time for this. _Julia mused._ Every day I delay is a day further ahead Dad gets and a day colder his trail goes. But.. argh. I can spare an hour or two to help this little kid. Otherwise the delayed guilt would eat me alive._

The kid calmed down a bit and stopped sniffling as much. "Y-you mean it?"

"I do." she said with a gentle smile. "What's your name?"

"I'm Bryan Wilks!" he said proudly, warming to the conversation now that his panic was fading. "I live in Grayditch! At least.. I did until the fire ants turned it into a cemetery."

_Fire ants? The poisonous little ones from South America..? I thought they weren't toxic enough to kill a person. Maybe the kid's confused. Either way, the solution is simple._

"Well, you're safe now, at least." she said encouragingly. "If you're feeling up to it, can you show me the way to Grayditch? We can see if anyone's still there, and then move somewhere else. With less of a bug problem!"

The kid looked uncertain about the second part of that, but seemed game enough for the rest, so they started walking north. The sun was high in the sky by the time they reached the outskirts of Grayditch, and the kid let out a shout.

"Lady, get down!" he said. ducking behind a rusty car. Responding more to the kid's urgency than his words, she crouched down beside him.

"What's going on? Is it raiders?" she asked, looking around.

"No, it's one of THOSE!" he said, pointing fearfully down a side road. Peering through the window-holes of the car, Julia had a look.

What she saw was so very far from what she had expected, she almost laughed. An ant the size of a motorcycle was fighting with another, slightly smaller one on the outskirts of the town. While this display would have been shocking enough, the ants were locked in combat using their mandibles as well as _fire breath_.

_Right. Fire ants. Makes sense_, Julia thought inwardly and with a touch of mania. _And why shouldn't they be giant? That's just how ants work now. Tiny elephants too probably!_

"So right, fire ants." she said to Bryan, setting aside the madness of the situation. "Do you know if there's any special way to hurt them? A giant boot or something? Run them over with a car?"

"I don't think any of the cars in town still work." he said, thinking carefully. "But my pappy had a gun before, and he'd always yell for people to 'shoot for their antenner!', whatever that means. When he got a lucky shot, they'd go crazy and start fighting each other!"

"So I could just try and stay hidden, and only shoot their antennas, and try and have them all kill each other instead of fighting them?" she asked, thinking aloud.

_Hold, please._ her brain interjected. _I realize there's a certain charm to be found in finding an impossible solution to an impossible problem here, but there's a few issues we should clear up. Firstly and foremost, we have only the testimony and speculation of a ten year old boy as the foundation of this plan._

_Objection!_ Instinct put in. _He could be older, and he grew up in the wasteland here. _

_Objection overruled_, said Brain._ He's a traumatized child witness to the death of a town, if we do this based only on his word, we're going to be ant barbecue. Besides which, I have more points to make._

_Oh, fine_, said Instinct._ Do continue._

_Most gracious. Ahem. Secondly, even if we presume that the antenna disabling method is sound, it would require some very precise shooting. We can usually manage to hit a stationary cola bottle at a hundred paces. These facts don't really gel well in this situation._

_Look, you said it before_, insisted Instinct. _It's an impossible answer to an impossible situation. if you don't like the antenna plan, we can just charge in guns blazing and hope for the best._

_See, that does sound like a nicely symmetrical plan assuming that there's some sort of cosmic balance to the universe_, countered Brain in a long-suffering tone. _But any person who's even dimly aware of the Gambler's fallacy would be able to bring up this third point, which is that impossible DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY._

_...are we one of those people?_ Instinct asked tentatively.

_YES._ Brain answered firmly.

_Well, that's that then. Let's scarper with the kid and never come back._

_See? That's a much better plan._ Brain said approvingly. _This is why you keep me around, you know._

Bryan, not being privy to her inner monologue, replied anyway. "That wouldn't work anyway. Even when we kill a bunch of them, more seem to come and take their place. They've gotta be coming from somewhere!"

Julia straightened up a bit to have a quick look around, only to find herself facing a second group of ants that had come in from the other direction. She ducked back down in a flash, hoping they hadn't been spotted.

"Bryan?" she said in an artificially calm voice. "We seem to have gotten flanked a little."

"That's not good, lady." he said, unhelpfully. "You got a plan to get us out of this?"

Julia spent a few precious seconds spelling out _justifiable infanticide_ to herself before responding in the negative. "Not unless you have some way to distract an entire swarm of ants long enough for us to find cover."

"Oh." he said. "That's easy! Where do you wanna run to?"

_Away from this planet._ "That diner over there should work for a while. The ants are avoiding it for some reason, and they should have trouble shooting fire through the windows."

"Okay then, on three, run!" the excitable lad said, fiddling with the fuel port of the nearby car. "One.."

"Wait, what are-" Julia started, eyes wide.

"-twothree run for it!" he said, bolting for the diner with his alarmed co-conspirator right behind. The ants took notice and started to follow.

"Quick, get in and duck and cover!" Bryan said, leaping through a vacant window pane and covering his head. Just as Julia did the same, a massive explosion rocked the town and shook the diner to its foundations.

_I told you a stupid plan would work!_ Instinct crowed.

_I want to find a new body._ Brain whimpered.

-0-

"What the sweet blinkering Christ was that?!" Julia yelled after her ears stopped ringing.

Bryan grinned and pulled a cherry bomb out of his pocket. "If you light one of these and toss it into a car just right, it goes off like a bomb! My pappy showed me that before we moved here."

"Well, what responsible parent wouldn't teach his child how to make bombs?" Julia said, just rolling with the punches by this point. "That's his right as an American. Or.. whatever."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and soldiered forth. "Moving on. What can you tell me about things that happened around the time the ants started showing up? Did anyone new show up in town? Weird sounds at night? Strange lights in the sky?"

"Nothing like that.." Bryan said, his small face a mask of concentration. "Oh! But Doc Lesko moved out of Dad's shack just a few days before!"

"'Doc Lesko?' Sounds promising. What was his deal?"

"He was a strange man." Bryan said, recalling. "A while back he paid Pappa some caps to help him build a shack and carry a bunch of junk into it. Pappa called him an egghead, but his head was shaped regular, so I didn't get it."

_That seems like a recurring theme._ Julia thought. _But a scientist goes missing right before the town is overrun by mutant ants? I think I've seen that movie. And now I'm living it. My life, eh?_

"Do you know if he left anything inside the shack when he left?" she asked. "Notes, computers? Books?"

"He had all kinds of weird doohickeys in his place!" Wilks said, part skeptical, part wondering. "Boxes with lots of lights, some funny glass bottles… oh! And a big, clunky, shiny man too!"

"He had a robot?" Julia said, remembering her earlier misadventure in the Super-Duper Mart. _Was that really this morning? Jeez. Wasteland life is rough._ "Isn't that dangerous?"

"No, it was always really nice to me!" Bryan beamed as only a child with a robot friend can. "I haven't seen him since Doc Lesko left, though."

"Can I get into the shack? I might be able to find something that can help get rid of all the ants there." she said, coming to a decision.

Bryan shook his head. "The door is locked. But my dad has the key, you can go get it from him!"

"Wait, if your dad is around, why isn't he out here helping us?" Julia asked, scanning the outside for a gap in the ant patrols.

"He's, uh.. busy. Guarding the house." Bryan said evasively. "But if you go there, he can help you out, I'm sure of it!"

"Okay, I'll go talk to your dad." she said. "Are you coming with?"

Bryan shook his head vigorously. Guess it's up to me. Hell, I want to go hide, too. I can hardly blame him.

"Alright then kiddo. Stay safe!"

She tossed an old tin can out the window, taking advantage of the distraction its landing caused to dash across the street and into one of the old apartments, the one Bryan had indicated. With a quick glance to either side, she ducked inside, closing the door behind her.

Immediately after turning to face the room, she regretted doing so, as a wave of pure stench wafted over and climbed up through her nostrils into her brain. The only reason she managed not to vomit was that opening any part of her face was literally unmanageable at that point. Eyes watering, she quickly surveyed the room from her vantage point pressed against the door in a vain effort to run away from the smell without actually going anywhere. After regaining her wits somewhat through sheer bloody-minded stubbornness, she identified the source of the smell pretty quickly - a partially decomposed corpse lying in the middle of the room.

_Oh god, _ she thought. _That must be Bryan's dad._

_OH GOD, _she then thought. _I'm going to have to check his pockets!_

She did throw up then, but only after facing away from the body. Her panicked animal hindbrain toyed with the idea of just going out to get eaten by the ants instead, but she wrested control of the motor functions and detached herself from her actions.

_Ammo, old shell casing, dust, snack cake wrapper DON'T THINK ABOUT FOOD URGH_ _HWULP oh hey a key got the key let's get out of here_

Holding the key in a pale, shaking fist, she bolted for the door and ran back to the diner. Four bullets whizzed past her as she went, but her panic ignored this as she dove back into cover.

"Geez, lady, what gives?" Bryan demanded on her return, holding an old hunting rifle. "You didn't look or anything, you almost got torched!"

"I - don't go in there - not good." she wheezed in between difficult breaths, already calming now that she was away from the.. situation.

"Are you okay?" Bryan asked, noting her distress.

"Yes, I'm - I'll be fine." she said, color returning to her cheeks. "Bryan, I'm sorry, but I have some bad news about your father. He's dead."

"Yeah... I snuck back home a little while ago and found him laying there." he said, shaking his head. "It was a couple of days ago. I've had to scavenge on my own since then."

"You could have said something before I went in there." she said testily.

"Maybe." he said, shrugging. "Did you find the key?"

_Did I find the - is he okay?_ _His dad is dead! How is he functional?_

_He's coping with it by pretending his father is still alive, for now_ Brain pointed out. _He'll probably mentally edit that part out of this conversation later on and keep going with it._

_That doesn't seem healthy_ Instinct grumbled.

_What, and just repressing any reaction to things being out of your control and acting like you can just continue on like always is a healthy way to handle things?_ Brain asked skeptically.

_Your face is ugly and we're done with this _said Instinct, bringing them back into realtime.

"Yep, got it right here!" she said, pushing aside Bryan's oddness and showing him the key. "I just need to take a quick breather before I go look at the shack."

-0-

Julia had used one of the old diner napkins as a makeshift face bandana to ward off smells, and entered the shack brandishing her pistol. Be there corpses or lethal robots, she'd at least put up a fight before succumbing. One of the monitors blinked in a way that could have been construed as threatening if you squinted, but other than that, it was quiet. She sighed and lowered her gun.

The room was, oddly enough, still full of equipment. Perhaps the good Doctor hadn't been able to take the machinery with him when he left - but then what would he be using now? _Observe first, speculate later,_ she reminded herself. Some of the devices she recognized from her studies - a pre-war centrifuge, a high powered microscope, various petri dishes, miscellaneous other instruments. Others she definitely did _not_ recognize - one looked like a small cube that had been manufactured before the Great War, and was softly whispering _blorple _noises, others looked like they'd been assembled and/or invented on site. A large cylinder in the corner much like the one the robot at the grocery store had come out of stood empty in the corner. Various bits and bobs were scattered about, and an empty coatrack was next to the door. Finally, sitting on a table along the back wall was a computer terminal.

_Hello, gorgeous._ she thought at the computer, flashing a predatory smile. _You're going to tell me everything you know._

Life in a Vault didn't give one much in the way of wasteland survival skills, but computer hacking? Julia had learned that when she was still short enough to need a large book to sit on to use the computer. "No, you can't read that yet" was a powerful motivator. About twenty minutes later, she had root access and was sifting through Lesko's files. Fortunately, it seemed he was the type to keep a log. She started calling up the entries, beginning with the most recent.

-0-

_Lesko's Logs _

_July 3, 2276_

_Ten years. It's been ten years since my wife and child were taken from me in that one hellish night. My dear Anna, so beautiful and full of life. Our daughter, not even fully grown. A lesser man would have been destroyed by such a tragedy, and even I must admit I was nearly undone. My mind felt as if it would fly apart against the raw, surging tide of emotion. I wanted to cry out against the unfairness of it all, to demand some type of justice from this uncaring universe. To rip and tear at the fabric of reality with my bare hands until I could pull back my loved ones. I did none of these, obviously. I simply sat in my room at the Institute quietly going mad. What use was my research, I thought, if it couldn't save little Tanya? My supervisor would come check in on me occasionally, but even his patience (or more likely, his free time) waned to nothing. I did not eat or sleep or dream. After what could have been a month or as little as a week, I managed to pass out and fall out of bed. I was weak enough not to awaken immediately, so when I finally regained consciousness, I was in somewhat of an awkward position. I was upside down, with my head facing the wall. I could see very little except for greenish cinderblock and the faint glow of the room lighting. But one thing did catch my eye. An ant - a small one from one of the pre-War specimen collections by the look of it - was trying to tunnel through the mortar holding the wall together. Ant! I recoiled in anger, more mentally than anything else due to my complete lack of energy. Ants had taken my girl! But in my state, something about that ant resonated in my battered psyche. This single ant was attempting something it could never do simply because it felt it had to be done. It would gnaw at that mortar until its chitin fused rather than give up. How could I, someone who had given up so thoroughly that I wasn't even eating anymore, judge such a creature? I laboriously shifted myself into a position I could move my arm, and reached over with a steel button from my stained lab coat. With that, I made a tiny chip in the mortar of the wall. The ant moved to try and widen the hole. I smiled. _

_I spent the next month regaining my strength and reading everything I could about the genome of the _Formicidae _family. My formal training was in genetics, so I didn't have to start from scratch. More than anything, my physical frailty got in the way of my efforts. I had lost fifty pounds during my convalescence, and it had cost me. My old colleagues from the genetics lab were more than eager to help out - after all, here I was. The celebrated geneticist Wenton Lesko, back at work with a fire they'd never seen before. For you see, now I had a purpose. I was going to redeem the ants._

_They were too big. That remains a decent summary of the problem even now. Thousands of pages of printouts, gallons of genetic sample fluid, and as much technical data as you could stuff into two ZAXes, and.. they were too big. Whether it was just the radiation from the war, or some bizarre chemical leak, or some freak combination of factors, the genome of the common garden ant had been irrevocably twisted into Brobdingnagian proportions. As genomes go, it's not terribly complex, but it's not exactly simple either. Days turned to months, months turned to years. I'd narrowed the problem significantly, but I was hitting a wall. I needed to work with actual specimens. I needed drones, a nest, a queen. But the Institute turned me down. They wouldn't risk their precious toy soldiers trying to recover an ant queen. Fine then, I said. I'll do it without you. That very evening I packed up most of the equipment I would need and headed south, after tendering my resignation._

_I'd been in the Wasteland before, of course. The Institute could hardly do its work as a completely sealed environment, no matter what that loon Zimmer from cybernetics might insist. Scientific progress is based on discovery, and you have to actually go look at things to do that. To that end, I found myself in a quiet little down west of the National Mall called "Grayditch". I played up my "bumbling professor" act a bit to convince the locals I was harmless. They seemed nice enough, but one of them kept staring at me like he didn't believe me for a second. Fortunately, I was able to convince one of them to build me this shack in exchange for my old bottlecap collection. To think my mother had called that a worthless hobby! There was clearly some type of hive nearby, and it was simple enough to convince the townsfolk to supply me with fresh samples in exchange for bits and bobs and the occasional checkup. So far, so good. I do believe I may be able to finally bring the noble ant into the modern age. For tonight, it's enough to finally have a lab again - so I and my special bottle of whiskey will bid this journal adieu._

-0-

_Lesko's Logs_

_January 22, 2277_

_There is a Queen nearby! I had known there was a plentiful source of ants, but I hadn't imagined a full queen! She has to live in the nearby Metro station - it's the only location that makes sense. I'll have to task my Science Robot with tracking her down - after dark, so that Wilks child doesn't try to follow it. The boy is bright - he reminds me of myself at his age - but he lacks any sort of proper education, and I lack the time to provide one. I hope he finds his way out of this place, but I don't hold out much hope. Besides, his father is the one who brings me the most specimens by far. Regardless, once I have access to a queen, I can finally begin synthesizing serums!_

-0-

_Lesko's Logs_

_April 16, 2277_

_I've hit a wall again, but I'm so close! The Queen's royal jelly holds the key - that's where the transformative effect is occurring. But the DNA is resisting me. It's as if the genes themselves don't _want_ to change back! Fortunately, I have a next step. I smuggled a small vial of Forced Evolutionary Virus out of the gene labs before I left the Institute. The databanks were full of warnings about it being powerful yet dangerously unstable - but what does a master geneticist have to fear from a mere viral sample?_

-0-

_Lesko's Logs_

_July 9, 2277_

_Using the FEV has produced such valuable data! I've run through serum after serum, tweaking each chromosome just so like a sculptor chisels his clay. I'm close to a breakthrough - I can feel it! I should have a viable serum by next month._

-0-

_Lesko's Logs_

_August 11, 2277_

_I'm having my Science Bot inject the Queen with Serum A27 as I write this. I can hardly contain my excitement - ten years of research culminating tonight! Finally, ants will be as God intended them to be - small, industrious, harmless. If not friends to mankind, then at least not our foes. And maybe then the souls of my family can finally be at rest._

-0-

_Lesko's Logs_

_August 12, 2277_

_can't write long. mutation went wrong - suspect mutation of venom sac. not small or harmless_

_must go to backup lab near queen chamber before ants burn the door_

_pyrosis_

* * *

_A/N: I'm not dead yet! Just.. very busy. This is still very much a thing that's happening though, so if you're one of my handful of followers, fear not! If not, hey, you do you man. Also yes, those of you familiar with the game won't recognize Lesko's characterization much, and that's because as written he doesn't make much sense. Or at least, he's not very interesting. So eff it, I'm the author, and I'm writing a story. _


	7. Pyrosis

_"__Any man whose errors take ten years to correct is quite a man.__"_

**Saturday, August 19, 2277**

**3:42 P.M.**

The descent into Marigold Metro wasn't as trying as it could have been, but it was decidedly tense. Dr. Lesko's notes had mentioned that the ants were attracted to heat sources - at least they had been before they became heat sources. An ancient can of Sterno and its accompanying book of matches from the diner proved an able distraction, luring would-be attackers into ambush. By Julia's estimations, she had about enough fuel in the can to distract ten more groups of ants. It was also eating into her supply of matches, but there wasn't much for that. You can't light a fire if you're ant food.

These and other similarly cheerful thoughts chased each other around her head while she crept around the dank corridors. The once proud metro station was largely collapsed, with bits of ceiling lying atop long dormant train cars. Its retroclassical Art Deco fixtures were scattered around like toys, and a vague haze permeated the area. Incongruously, the old advertisement stands were still glowing brightly.

"Secure YOUR place in a Vault today!" one cajoled silently as Julia passed by.

_If only, Mister Sign._ she thought ruefully._ If only. But noooo, Dad had to vanish and interrupt a very delicate power play._

She put a bullet into an ant and continued, scooping up the Sterno and going down the old escalator to the train platform.

_I was supposed to bring sanity and self rule to the Vault! Not go chasing mutant ants through the damned metro rail!_

She threw the Sterno a bit further than intended on the next toss, and it smacked against the wall. The ant still followed, but it was embarrassing.

"Easy, girl." she said to herself. "Gotta keep a cool head down here."

"Sound advice." said a somewhat nasal voice from behind her. "You never know what's creeping around here in the dark."

"...Doctor Lesko, I presume." Julia said, turning to face the voice once her heart stopped doing its best to start a Blue Man Group cover band.

A middle aged, balding man stood a short distance away, wearing a stained lab coat and holding a pistol at the ready. His posture wasn't threatening _precisely_, but it definitely implied that the good doctor was ready to defend himself if needed.

"You presume correctly." he said, gesturing with the gun. "Now, normally I would be more than happy to entertain visitors, but I've had a rather _trying_ week. I am in the process of some delicate scientific experimentation in this station, and -"

"You mean the ants." Julia interrupted. "The ones that breathe fire?"

"They weren't _supposed_ to breathe fire!" he exclaimed in deep frustration, beginning to pace. "They were _supposed_ to get _smaller_! Every test, every simulation that I ran showed a decrease in size back to their purer, non-mutated form within seven months! They would finally be able to -"

He broke off, realizing he was ranting a bit. "But that's beside the point for now. This is the closest thing I have to an experimental area, and I can't have even more outside variables getting in. Please leave."

"Your 'experimental area' is an abandoned metro station filled with giant mutant ants." Julia noted with a raised eyebrow. "I hardly think my just being here would cause too much trouble."

She held up a hand, forestalling his next objection. "_And_, I'm actually here for a reason. I'm trying to put an end to the-" _what was it Bryan called them again? AH-_ "-fire ants. Ideally before they burn down what's left of civilization. You're a man of science, Doctor. You know the value of peer review."

Lesko gave it a moment's thought, then shrugged. "You are the closest thing to a peer I'm likely to find anytime soon, and to be honest, I've got nothing to lose at the moment. Follow me, we should get out of the open. I have a subsidiary lab further inside."

-0-

Lesko's lab was in an old maintenance area - pre-war shelving covered many of the walls, and an antiquated RobCo terminal stood on a desk nearby. A well-used mattress lay bare in the corner, and various supplies were strewn around. The decor was rounded out by a large variety of scientific instruments, similar to the ones in his shack up above.

Lesko himself sagged into a chair by the desk, clearly more tired than he was letting on, and Julia leaned up against an adjacent wall.

"So," she asked casually. "What went wrong?"

"In short?" he said. "_Everything_." He gave a derisive snort and continued. "But to give specifics to that general answer, well. You know I was trying to alter the ants' genetic code to make them smaller again. But it's not quite that simple - genetics is as much an art than science. It's not like flipping a switch - there's a combination of factors that's hard to predict."

"Sure." Julia said. "Inherited traits are usually determined by a number of genes working in tandem rather than just one. Trying to tweak away one trait is like trying to solve four Rubik's cubes at once - and when you turn one side on one, all the others shift too."

"An apt analogy." the doctor said, chuckling despite himself. "Though I haven't seen a Rubik's cube since I left home. But yes, you seem to comprehend the basics of the problem well enough. That, plus two hundred year's worth of genetic degradation meant I had my work cut out for me. If normal genetic engineering is like solving four cubes at the same time, trying to work on these irradiated genes was like trying to do so while colorblind. I'm no slouch, but the problem was truly vexing."

"Which is where things went.. Weird, I'm supposing." Julia prompted.

"Quite." he continued. "There is a.. substance. An engineered virus that's immune to ionizing radiation and designed to be 'programmed', for lack of a better word, to work on specific organisms. To continue your metaphor, it would be like repainting the faces of the cubes to be only two colors instead of the usual six - still a tough problem, but several degrees less.. insane. It's a dangerous substance to work with - it can often create instability in experiments, and has quite a sordid history - but it's very potent. I brought some with me when I came here to use as a last resort - which I then did, of course. It seemed to be working fantastically at first - I could finally deliberately affect the genes of the samples that I was using. No more was I stumbling around blindly - I was actually making progress! Within a few months I had a full serum ready to use on my sample queen. That was a few days ago, and as you can see it did not go according to plan."

"What actually happened to the ants?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the understatement of the decade. "Like, structurally. Fire-breathing isn't a trait that we've seen in nature before, even these days."

"My best hypothesis is that instead of targeting the abnormal growth genes, my genetic therapy instead altered the ants' venom sacs to create a highly flammable fluid instead of the usual substances." Lesko explained. "Their already oversized mandibles clicking against each other creates a spark, and thus when the venom is sprayed out, the effect is akin to a flamethrower. I call the process 'pyrosis'."

"Wait, you named it based on wordplay?" Julia asked incredulously.

"It's a process that creates burning based on expelling fluids from deep inside the body." Lesko sniffed defensively. "The medical term for 'heartburn' seemed appropriate under the circumstances."

"Whatever." she said, shrugging it off. "There are worse names canonized in the body of Science. What's our next move?"

The doctor sighed. "We'll have to eliminate all of the currently active pyrosis-capable subjects and repair the viral effects on my queen; I've almost managed to complete an antiserum that should counteract the genetic changes to her system, and there is a terminal inside the chamber that can trigger a toxin dispersal system that can eliminate the ants on the surface. It's quite harmless to humans, I assure you."

"Wait, if you can kill all the ants with the press of a button, then why haven't you?" she demanded.

"First and foremost, I needed to finish the antiserum first." he said, a slight edge in his voice. "The toxin dispersal system I set up requires some effort to reset, so using it before I can cut off the source of more pyrosis ants would be entirely futile. Secondly, there is a large number of ants between myself and the queen. I am a fair shot with a pistol, and well familiar with effective strategies for managing them, but even so I would likely be overwhelmed alone. I believe this endeavor will require both of us to succeed."

"Fair enough." Julia said, mollified. "Is there anything I can do to help in the meantime?"

"Go sit in the corner and don't bother me until I finish."

-0-

**Sunday, August 20, 2277**

**5:30 A.M.**

"Young miss? We're ready to go."

"Go'way Amata, 'm still tired." Julia mumbled, rolling over on the old mattress in the corner. This act, however, reminded her of her unfamiliar surroundings, and then subsequently what they were doing there.

"I beg your pardon?" Doctor Lesko asked, blinking owlishly at her from behind his thick glasses.

"Mmrgh. Nothing." she said, yawning. "How long was I asleep?"

"Assuming you fell asleep immediately after you stopped making sounds yesterday, approximately nine hours." he told her matter-of-factly. "A proper sleep cycle is important to one's mental health, you know, as well as your physical well being. You seemed exhausted."

"You're not the only one who's had a trying couple of days." she said, before changing the subject. "How's the antiserum coming along?"

If he minded the topic shift, he didn't show it. "I've just completed the final simulations now. The formula is synthesizing as we speak."

A quiet "ding" came out of one of the machines. "That'll be it now!" he said excitedly, removing a test tube from what looked like a centrifuge.

Julia summarized the plan while assembling her items and self in preparation to leave. "So we'll go down to the hatchery, killing the rest of the ants inside the cavern. How will we inject the serum into the queen? I can't imagine she'll just sit there and take it."

"My science robot will meet us at the cavern entrance once we get close enough." he explained, checking his pistol. "It's equipped with an injector for that exact reason. The ants can't detect robots, which is why I use it as a delivery mechanism."

"So we give the serum to the robot, clear out the caves, then hit the toxin failsafe?" she asked, confirming the plan.

"Indeed." Lesko nodded with a wry smile. "And then I get back to work on my Rubik's cubes, but properly this time."

"Why work with the ants in the first place?" Julia asked as they headed out the door._ I already know part of the answer, but it would be nice to actually ask instead of relying on having read his diary._ "I mean, obviously there's a need there, but why ants specifically?"

Lesko hesitated before answering. "It's a long story, and somewhat personal. My reasons seem strange even to myself, so I'm not sure how much use they'll be to you."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want." she said sympathetically. "I was just curious."

"No, no, it would do me well to talk about it, I think." he said, sighing deeply. "It's been a long time anyway, I should talk to someone about it."

Julia nodded, and he began the story.

"It was almost thirty years ago now. I was living in the Commonwealth with my wife and our beautiful baby daughter..."

-0-

"...and so that's the story." he concluded, handing over the serum vial to his robot as they arrived at the entryway to the queen's nest. "A regular ant made an abnormally large impression on me during a dark chapter of my life, and that's led me here. I offer no excuses for how strange it all is, but it is what it is."

Julia pondered as they watched the robot trundled off. "I'm the last person who should judge someone for doing something for strange reasons, really." she said at last. "But I feel like even if your reasons are strange, your goals are still admirable. You're just trying to help people by helping out the ants. Who could fault that?"

"The residents of Grayditch." Lesko said darkly. "And poor Bryan Wilks. I may have begun this project with admirable intentions, but now look! I've become the stereotypical mad scientist unleashing his creations on an unsuspecting town. Just because I managed to eventually halt the damage doesn't mean that I should be forgiven."

"While it's true that you took some unorthodox steps in your research, you can hardly blame yourself for not predicting that the ants would spontaneously develop the ability to spew fire." Julia said consolingly. "How could you possibly have seen that coming? Tell me, what were the second and third most likely outcomes for the genetic treatment in your sims?"

"...32 percent likelihood of a null result, 28 percent likelihood of developing a different pigmentation." he admitted.

"So given the data at the time, could you have made a different decision?" she prodded. "Knowing everything that was at stake?"

"I should have accounted more thoroughly for the instability of the FEV!" he exclaimed. "I was so wrapped up in finally solving the problems that I allowed my optimistic estimates to have too much weight over the pessimistic ones."

He paused his stride for a moment, thoughtful. "..which still admittedly didn't include pyrosis. Even as a veteran geneticist, that outcome is just _weird_."

"So you became encouraged when your life's work started bearing fruits?" Julia said in mock outrage. "Shame! Shame upon you for being human!"

"I see your point, but people are still dead because of me." he said crossly as they arrived back at the lab.

"Which is why you're going to fix this mistake and avoid it in the future." she reminded him kindly. "Working on solving large, dangerous problems like this one is never going to be a safe job - which you well know. Seal off the metro station and use it as an actual isolated environment for the next batch of tests, and continue your work. If you manage to rid the world of giant ants, then many, many lives will be saved. And that's worthwhile, I think. Don't you?"

"Yes, you're right." he said, smiling once again. "I suppose I just needed to hear it from someone else. And finally talking about what happened with Anna and little Tanya has taken a weight off my shoulders - thank you for being a good listener."

"Anytime, Doc." she said, as he let out a sharp laugh. "What?"

"I just realized - you were right!" he said, grinning broadly. "I really did need some peer review!"

"Long live the scientific method." she intoned in a solemn tone, which was undermined somewhat by her matching grin. She approached the terminal and called up the toxin failsafe controls. "Would you care to do the honors, Doctor?"

Lesko approached the keyboard with a degree of gravitas - a man ready to cast off his past and enter the future with gusto.

"It would be my sincere pleasure."

-0-

**Sunday, August 20, 2277**

**10:28 A.M.**

Upon exiting Marigold Metro, Julia was immediately set upon by a particularly enthusiastic blur.

"WOW! Did you see that?" Bryan Wilks exclaimed, fibrillating with excitement. "The ants just stopped moving and fell over dead! Did you do that?"

"Partly." Julia admitted. "But Doctor Lesko did most of the work."

"I'll bet you kept the ants away from him before that though!" he insisted with the indomitable cheer of an eight year old. "You're the coolest!"

"_That's_ true." she said, smirking a little. "But what about you? You can't stay here by yourself forever."

"Now that the town is safe again, I'm gonna go visit my aunt Vera." he chirped. "She always said if I had any trouble I should come see her, so that's just what I'm gonna do. Bye lady!"

And with that, he ran off.

"I- but. You?" she spluttered a little.

_They always said that God looks after fools and small children._ She thought, shaking her head. _Hope he's still young enough to count as the latter. Then again, he's technically better at this wasteland business than I am. He's been at it longer._

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she started off in the general direction that Simms had pointed out the other day. _Even if Dad isn't at the radio station anymore, I might be able to use it to send a signal to his Pip-Boy. That would save me a lot of walking. Speaking of.._

She turned on her Pip-Boy's radio, and decided to just enjoy the music for a while. It would be a while before she got there, so why not?

_A/N: I'm not dead! I was, however, distracted by Fallout 4 and an entire semester of the branch of witchcraft known as "trigonometry". Memorizing arcane symbols and spells left me a bit creatively drained. However, as promised, this is absolutely still a thing and will remain so for some time. We're in this for the long haul, folks._


	8. Galaxy News Radio

"_Wherever you go, there you are."_

**Tuesday, August 28, 2277**

The journey to the small plaza that held the entrance to the Galaxy News Radio station was simultaneously the scariest and the most boring thing Julia had ever endured. Just over a week of creeping along deserted, smelly metro tunnels, occasionally squashing radroaches, and hiding from what seemed to be an entire _species_ of the Jolly Green Giant's far surlier cousins. Fortunately, they didn't seem to be a very perceptive lot, and she was able to evade them without _too_ much difficulty.

The destination itself turned out to be a building rather less "blown up" than the others - a pre-War radio station with big brass letters on the front declaring itself to be G! N! R! bold as you please. The remains of a metro station staircase sat in the remains of a parking lot, and various bits of old conduit and cable were strewn about the ground, likely the remains of a network or power grid or some such decrepit "thing" from the old world. The remains of a large broadcasting antenna lay across the area like a fallen tree, blown over by the nuclear winds. The guys guarding the door, however, were clearly newer and much less broken-down. Each was wearing armor that seemed to be made of thick steel, or possibly something stronger. It vaguely resembled the type of armor medieval knights were supposed to have worn - it encased the wearer from head to toe, blurring any form of individuality and replacing it with a metallic, impersonal edifice. Each also was visibly armed with some sort of automatic weapon - Julia wasn't sufficiently conversant with small arms to be able to pick out the details at a glance.

_I wonder where I get a suit of armor like that guard has? Bet I could win a war by myself in one of those._

"What is your business here, Outsider?" one of the guards asked. "This area is under the protection of the Brotherhood of Steel."

_The what? Never mind, later. _"I'm here to speak with Three Dog." Julia replied. "I've heard that someone I'm looking for passed this way not too long ago, and I wanted to ask him for information."

The guard nodded and keyed the intercom. "Outsider here to see Three Dog.. yes, she's armed... Yes, we should let her in." A pause. "What? Yes, probably. Okay."

The guard turned back to Julia. "Go on in. You'll have to leave your weapons with the security detachment." She stepped back with a shrug and motioned for Julia to go inside.

"Fair enough. Thank you!" Julia said, entering the lobby.

After she departed, the other guard turned to the first. "What the heck, Syd? Since when are you so accommodating with random wasters?"

"Oh come on." the first replied, invisibly rolling her eyes. "When's the last time we had anyone around here who wasn't a Brother or a mutie? Tiny waster girl with a baseball bat and a quest's the most interesting thing around here all month."

"You just want to find out where she got that suit of armor." the first said in a mock-accusing tone.

"Well did you _see_ it? Looks durable. And classy as hell." Syd said, crossing her arms.

"Maybe you two could trade." he said, audibly smirking. "What's the penalty for selling Brotherhood equipment again?"

"Nobody likes a smartass, Stevens." she said, settling back into "guard" mode.

-0-

After a _disconcertingly_ thorough security check and a stern talking-to about what was and was not acceptable inside a Brotherhood installation, Julia was finally permitted to head up to the recording studio. Banks of recording and mixing equipment lined the walls of the main room, and what looked like a kitchenette was off to one side. Before she could explore more of the space though, she was interrupted by an enthusiastic greeting.

"Well _helloooo _THERE!"

She turned to face the source of the voice, an enthusiastically grinning man dressed like a post-apocalyptic beatnik. As a response was forming in her brain, the man continued his spiel.

"The look on your face says it all - who is this handsome stranger before me, you ask! What does he do, how does he make it sounds so _good _\- and why does it matter to me? Well - prepare to be enlightened. I am.. _THREE DOG_! Teller of truths and sasser of sinners. Lord and _master_ over the finest radio station _ever _ to grace these wastes." he said, leaning back smugly, "And _you_ are here about your dad."

"Which you know, because he was here before and I look just like him." Julia said. Noting the DJ's crestfallen expression, she explained a bit. "You're not the only one who can put one and two together, Three Dog - and I _am_ in a bit of a hurry to catch up to him."

"Fiiiine, I can dig it." he said, acquiescing. "I can understand a bit of thunder-stealing in the name of the Good Fight. Maybe even sympathize! Though I do want to have a proper sit-down at some point and swap Vault stories."

"Three Dog, if you tell me where my dad is, I'll write you an autobiography."

"Hah, I knew there was something about you I liked!" he exclaimed, slapping his knee. "Your dad headed off to an old Vault hiding underneath an even older repair shop wayyy out west of here. Wanted to know if I'd heard of the place - course I had, I hear everything. Smith Casey's Garage, just north of Girdershade. You'll want to avoid the old foundry along the way - it's almost _literally _crawling with raiders. Better to juke to the south a bit - you can't miss it."

"Wow, just like that?" Julia asked, a little gobsmacked. "I half expected you to have me fix your signal or something first."

"Just like that." he said, nodding. "Don't get me wrong, I know the signal's been shit lately - but I've already got someone on that, and no offense to you, but I bet she's a damn sight better at tinkering than you are. Means I can afford to be my usual genial self!"

"Well, thanks." she said, still a bit dumbfounded. "Did he happen to say what he was doing there?"

"He said he was looking for some old Pre-war science records or something." the enthusiastic DJ explained. "He went into more detail, but most of it went over my head, I'm sorry to say. I'm a DJ, not a physicist. Whatever it was though, he's clearly fighting the Good Fight - so I'm happy to help him out."

"Did he say anything else?" Julia asked. "Leave any messages, or anything else I should know?"

"He said that if you showed up, I should send you there." Noting her look of surprise, he continued. "What? The old man knew you wouldn't stay put in that Vault. If you made it all the way to me, you can make it over there too, with my info. Seems he was right on the money, too."

"Heh, that sounds like something Dad would do." she said, grinning despite herself. "Did he mention if he'd found the Vault door code somehow?"

"The code is 'kronach'. K-R-O-N-A-C-H. No, I don't know why." Three Dog said, holding up his hands. "And no, he didn't say how he'd figured it out either. But if he tells you, I'd appreciate you letting old Three Dog in on the secret."

"I'll keep it in mind." Julia said, turning to leave. "Thanks again, Three Dog!"

"Good luck, kid!" he called out after her. "And remember - you owe me an interview!"

-0-

**Sunday, September 2, 2277**

_I realize it's called the "Wasteland" primarily because there's not much living out here,_ Julia thought to herself after another day of walking through largely empty, dried out landscape, between dead, dried-out trees, and past empty, bombed-out buildings, _but this is ridiculous._

_Well what did you expect?_ she responded mentally. "_Wasteland"! Post-apocalyptic. Hello? It doesn't lend itself to vast sprawling settlements or busy trade networks._

She ducked inside the skeleton of what had probably been an office building in a previous life, and began to make camp. That phrase always seemed to imply something more formal than laying down in a sheltered spot and snacking before dozing off, but it wasn't like she had a better one. Besides, what was she going to do, stay awake for weeks at a time? That would be insane.

_Still though, you'd expect _something _more after two hundred years._ _A lot can happen in two hundred years! Maybe there are a lot of other towns and I just haven't found them. It's not as if I've been looking all that hard, and Crow must trade with _someone_._

_I've seen no real evidence that he's not just some sort of crazy person wandering the wastes, _ she countered to herself. _Though the suit _is _very nice._

_Says the girl wandering the wastes while literally talking to herself, _she noted, snorting at the irony.

_Bah. And touche. Still though, we've read all the post-apocalypse models in the Vault library - which given the source was probably literally all of them. There should be more plant life if nothing else. What gives?_

_It's too dry. Just because there's fallout in the air doesn't mean the water cycle stops - that's even a key part of the whole concept of 'fallout'! So where's all the water? Even the Potomac is barely a trickle - we saw those marooned boats on the old riverbanks._

_Marooned boats and marooned boat _landings_, for that matter. Something's up with the H2O supply around here. It can't _just _be the radiation, either - water doesn't work like that. Even damming the Potomac wouldn't do it._

_What, then? Venusian desiccation rays? Aliens stealing all our water? Tectonic shifting from massed nuclear bombardment?_

_There's no reason to get sarcastic, _she chided herself with an eye-roll. _Clearly SOMETHING'S up. We just don't know what yet. Until then all we can really do is speculate without data. And we may as well go with the UFO abductions then, because that makes about as much sense as anything else._

_You're really annoying when you're right, you know. It's not one of my more charming qualities._

_Ah, shut up and go to sleep, _she said, rolling over. It was at that precise moment that the screaming started.

"_People of the Capital Wasteland, you can HEAR MEEEE! Yeeeaa haaaa! You can't stop the signal, baby!"_

Once her heart stopped doing jumping jacks, Julia remembered that she'd left her radio tuned to Galaxy News Radio so she would notice if the signal came back.

_Yaaaaay me. Good plan, _she shought sarcastically at herself, still keyed-up from her enthusiastic awakening. The radio continued to blather on, cheerfully ignorant of her state of mind.

"_That's right, from Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we are coming to you loud and proud, in a special live report! 'But Three Dog!' y'all say. 'How do YOU know we can hear you all the way out here in the ass end of nowhere?' Because of this superb scribey friend of mine, that's how! Ronnie here fixed up the antenna like it was brand new, which is all the more impressive since she did it with spare crap we had lying around! Oh, and a giant dish off of an old moon lander. Details! But as it happens, we have her right here in the studio. Say hello to the people!"_

There was a brief sound of shuffling, and then a young woman's voice came on.

"_Uh, hello wasteland! My name is Veronica, I'm the best at fixing stuff, and if anyone wants to thank me for doing this I accept pre-war pastries as a form of payment for minor services! Back to you, Three Dog!"_

"_Isn't she grand? You heard the lady, wasters - bring on the Fancy Lads! But for now, this is Three Dog, OWWWWWWWWW! And you're listening to Galaxy News Radio! Bringing you the truth, no matter how bad it hurts. And now, some music."_

"_I'm as corny as Kansas in August, high as a flag on-"_

Julia switched off the radio. _Not that one again. Not since we put on that production of "South Pacific" for Mr. Brotch's class. God, the screaming.._ Suppressing an involuntary shudder, she drifted off to sleep. _Still, maybe I should keep an eye out for snack cakes, just in case._

-0-

**Thursday, September 6, 2277**

Julia approached the front door of Smith Casey's garage tentatively. It was in surprisingly good shape for a 200 year old auto repair shop, with no visible structural damage on the outside beyond the usual weathering and grime. The letters on the sign out front bearing its late proprietor's name were still in place and intact, though the little bulbs in their sockets had long since broken. Unlimbering her baseball bat, she entered the shop.

Daylight filtered in through the empty window panes, illuminating the dust in the air and giving the area an almost ethereal quality. The interior was dim, but still lit well enough that she could more or less see everything. Nuka-Cola machine in the corner, counter for the receptionist, large door leading back to the workshop. As she took stock of her surroundings, a quiet rustling sound caught her attention. She turned and raised the bat just in time to intercept a giant mole rat which had leaped directly at her face - sending it back to the ground. A swift followup directly to its skull ended the encounter. Sweeping the shop, she dispatched another few rats before declaring the area "safe".

_Heh, "sweeping the area" _she thought to herself. _Like I'm a professional or something. Let's see about vault access… ah._

There was a note on the counter written in her father's handwriting. She picked it up with a wry smile. _I guess he really _didn't _think I would stay put. Not surprising, he knows what would have happened as well as anyone. He did work with the Overseer for almost 20 years, after all._

The note was brief, and had a thin layer of dust on it - it had been here a while, but not a long while.

_Julia-_

_Since you undoubtedly left the Vault and came to find me, you may as well come in and help me look. I apologize for the circumspect nature of this note, but as you may have noticed, not everyone out here is as forthright as we might prefer. I understand that you hate blundering around in the dark, but I'm sure you'll figure out how to switch to the light of revelation soon enough. Just be sure you find a way that's righter than necessary, and you'll figure it out._

_Dad_

She made a face at the note and snorted. _This is supposed to be a riddle? _She immediately walked over to the bank of light switches and found one that wasn't wired to any of the fixtures on the ceiling, to the right of the other ones. Flipping it caused a section of the garage floor to flip open and reveal a hidden staircase. Descending it, she continued the line of thought. _Then again, it's only obvious to me since I grew up in a Vault and around riddles. To someone without my specific background, it would read more like encouragement or something. That's rather clever, really. It's hardly hard encryption, but then if it was supposed to be a secret, he wouldn't have told Three Dog about it in the first place. Ah, here's the door. Allez-oup!_

The heavy door mechanism made quite a bit of noise opening up, which echoed weirdly in the sunken concrete chamber that housed the entryway. Eventually, the giant gear-shaped steel door rolled away and revealed the interior of the vault. It was oddly quiet inside, and smelled faintly of antiseptic agents. Stepping cautiously inside, Julia was greeted almost immediately by an unfamiliar type of robot. Its body was roughly cylindrical, with caterpillar treads in lieu of feet or wheels, and prehensile grabby arms. Also, in a tank atop its body was what looked alarmingly like a human brain, suspended in some sort of solution.

_That robot has a brain that robot has a brain that ROBOT has a BRAIN what the HELL! Aaaaaaaack! Wait is it talking to me?_

It was, as it turned out. The robot's voice was an oddly soothing feminine monotone coming from a vocoder somewhere inside the torso cylinder.

"Hello~" it warbled. "Welcome to Vault 112. You have arrived 204.3 years behind schedule. In the interests of time, please put on your official Vault 112 vault suit and take a seat in any unoccupied Tranquility Lounger. Have a nice day!"

It handed Julia a folded vault suit and trundled off, leaving her staring after it mutely.

_That was the weirdest thing I've ever seen and I have seen a giant green man who eats people. Is Dad even here? Of course he's here, he left the note. I guess I'd better go looking for these.. "Tranquility loungers"._

She declined to change out of her conveniently bullet-resistant suit jacket and headed deeper into the vault. The corridors were brightly lit and eerily silent - it was almost as if there was nobody actually _in_ the vault.

_Which doesn't make sense. Why would they leave a vault just empty? They clearly had time to finish it. Plus Dad came here looking for something and stayed here - if it was _actually _empty, he wouldn't be wasting his time. _

She descended a staircase and kept thinking while absorbing the details of the environment. _For that matter, where IS Dad? I've seen him engrossed in his work before, but you can hear that Vault door from half a mile away. There's no way he would have missed it. So where is he? I have a bad feeling about this._

That was when she entered the main room of Vault 112. The center of the room was dominated by a huge computer core, pulsing with lights and draped with cables like some sort of technological maypole. Clearly this was more than a regular mainframe. Surrounding the core in a ring was a series of what looked like a cross between a bed and an iron lung, 13 in cables from the core ran to and from each vaguely egg-shaped contraption, bringing huge amounts of data back and forth. As she got closer, she could see that there were people inside them. An old man slept in the closest one, seemingly completely disconnected from the world outside. His eyes darted around beneath his eyelids, and it looked like he was talking in his sleep. A quick inspection of the others nearby revealed men and women, all old, all seemingly dreaming intensely. Two of the pods were empty, and the last one held a very familiar looking man, also sound asleep.

"Dad!" Julia shouted, banging on the exterior frame of the Tranqulity Lounger. "Dad, wake up!" These efforts proved fruitless, and after a moment or so it occurred to her that forcibly waking these people up without finding out more of what was going on would be a very bad idea.

_Right then - the computer core,_ she resolved, heading over to a terminal built into the exterior of the central pillar. _Hmm.. looks like some kind of custom OS. It's not the usual RobCo nonsense here. Also, not password protected. That's good, my usual tricks wouldn't work here. I guess they were relying on physical security for the terminals. Dumb, but I'm not going to complain. _

She spent some time sifting through the various control screens and data displays, realizing more every passing second how out of her depth she was with this system.

_Yeah, I have no idea what this is doing. I'm as likely to kill someone as unhook them.. If only I knew what these were doing! Or if there was some sort of convenient option labeled "disengage pod".. Arrgh. I have no idea what to do here._

She paused, reflecting.

_Wait, yes I do. I may not know how to work a bizarre pre-war proprietary computer system, but maybe someone else does. I'll bet Three Dog knows something, he hears everything. I'll get some backup and come back._

Heading back out, she saw a note on the floor, likely blown off of the processor core by one of the cooling fans. The handwriting was again familiar.

_Julia-_

_I'm here looking for scientific data from a pre-war scientist named Doctor Stanislaus Braun. It's my understanding that this computer system sustains some sort of virtual interface for his files - though the room full of vegetables doesn't exactly inspire confidence. Still, they are alive, and seem to be unharmed - and I need this data. It's more important than I can properly explain, but you can have my word as a scientist. If you find this note before you find me, DO NOT ENTER THE SIMULATION. I'll be out within a day. If you find this note more than 48 hours after today's date, find help immediately, as things have gone rather far beyond my admittedly hasty planning._

_Dad_

_August 27, 2277 _

_Anno Domini_

Julia ran.

* * *

Author's notes:

Still not dead yet! Also, fans of the series will notice one of our first main canon divergences here. Yes, it's on purpose. Yes, it's that one. No, I don't have anything more to say about it at the moment :)


End file.
